


Tecum Fugis

by Bumphur



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Mostly Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, WARNING: mentions of suicide, With more Vetra shoved in all the cracks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumphur/pseuds/Bumphur
Summary: Vetra Nyx came to Andromeda to escape the fallout of a terrible mistake, but her past has come back to haunt her. And possibly put a bullet in her skull. In a race against time and across star systems, she must put an end to the evil she helped create before it jeopardises the whole Initiative. And if she's going to succeed, she'll have to learn to trust rookie pathfinder Sara Ryder with her darkest secrets.





	1. One Last Job

**Author's Note:**

> After playing Andromeda obsessively for a week, I really wanted more of Vetra's backstory. Why is she so cagey about her past? What happened to make her doubt Ryder's romantic intentions? How'd she get that sweet power armour?  
> I also really wanted more Vetra-centric mission stuff. And more Sid. Be the change you want to see in the world, I thought.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why do you wonder that globe-trotting does not help you, seeing that you always take yourself with you? The reason which set you wandering is ever at your heels. What pleasure is there in seeing new lands? Or in surveying cities and spots of interest? All your bustle is useless. Do you ask why such flight does not help you? It is because you flee along with yourself.
> 
> -Seneca

Tonight, things were finally going to change for Vetra Nyx. She could feel it in the dark, smoky air, in the thrum of the dance music reverberating through the room, in the brandy burning the back of her throat. She’d known it the moment she’d gotten a simple message a few hours back. ‘ _Tonight. The usual place. It’s on._ ’

The turian leaned her statuesque frame against the bar and scanned the crowd. The club was packed with the same intergalactic medley of criminals and mercenaries as any other watering-hole on Omega, and on any other night she’d have been content to people-watch. Right now, however, there was only one face she wanted to see, and he was late. She tapped a sharp claw against the bar and lifted her brandy to her lips. As she tipped back the last of her glass, her comm crackled into life.

“ _Vetra? You there?_ ”

She tapped her omnitool to try to drown out the dance music. “Yora? What’s up?”

“ _Just checking in. I still think this is a mistake. Are you sure your boyfriend knows what he’s doing?_ ”

“Relax, Yora,” said Vetra, signalling the asari bartender for a refill. “I’ve got this. _We’ve_ got this. Tilius has experience with these guys.  It’s just a simple trade, in and out. No complications.”

“ _It’s never a simple trade when Talon’s involved_,” Yora replied, sounding irate. “ _Or red sand. You’re getting in too deep, Vetra._ ”

“I’m not,” she replied, watching idly as a booth full of vorcha broke into a drunken tussle. “I’m dipping my toes in and taking them right out.”

“ _Dipping your toes into a varren pit,_ ” Yora muttered. Vetra shook her head and chuckled.

“Starting to sound like you care, Yora,” she replied lightly. “It’s sweet.”  She head her associate scoff on the other end.

“ _Just call me when it’s over,_ ” he grumbled, before dropping the call. Vetra turned back to the bartender, who was just pouring her out a new drink.

“Turian drinking alone? Don’t see that often,’ the asari said. ‘Waiting for someone?’

Vetra nodded. “Yeah.”

“Someone special?” the asari pressed. Vetra took her drink, feeling suddenly bashful.

“Guess he is,” she replied. More than special, she thought. Meeting him had changed her life. But before Vetra could elaborate, the old holoscreen behind the bar flashed white, grabbing her attention. An image of a smiling human female popped up, the letters _AI_ emblazoned behind her.

“Hello,” said the woman in a cheery, professional manner. “I’m Jien Garson, creator of the Andromeda Initiative. Six months from now, myself and thousands of the finest adventurers the galaxy has to offer will be setting forth on the journey of a lifetime. We’ve still got some space on board, so if you’re dreaming of a new life among vast and unexplored frontiers, we’d love to hear from you. New applications will be accepted until the end of this month. Garson out.” The woman tossed a little salute, and blinked out of existence.

“Andromeda Initiative,” the bartender sneered. “Can you believe that crap? Those humans have been on the council for what, ten seconds? And now they’re planning some crazy, one-way, six-hundred year trip, and other species are actually _following_ them.”

“They’ve got to be desperate to be advertising on Omega,” Vetra commented. She sipped her brandy. “Maybe they’re not convincing that many in Citadel space.”

“A cousin of mine joined up,” the bartender replied , in the same tone she might have used if cousin had joined a batarian slaver gang. “When I was a maiden, if you wanted thrills you signed up with a merc band,” she continued. “You didn’t have to go to another fucking galaxy.” A salarian hailed her from the far end of the bar, and with a nod to Vetra, she was gone.

Andromeda, thought Vetra. She thought back to a few weeks ago, when Nakmor Kesh had invited her to join the Initiative. It had been tempting. Leaving behind Milky Way politics and intrigues. Pulling free of the tangles of a life lived among the most vicious and desperate dregs of the galaxy. Starting with a truly clean slate. If she hadn’t been dating Tilius, hadn’t gotten this chance to make the deal of a lifetime, hadn’t already picked out a cosy home for her and her sister on a peaceful colony on Oma Kerr, she’d have accepted Kesh’s offer.

“Hey, Vetra.”

She perked up at the familiar voice, turned, and was met with the sight of a tall, dark-faced turian, strobe lights glittering on his black armour. He slid a claw around her waist and drew her against his hips.

“Miss me?” he asked, blue eyes locking onto hers. Vetra laughed, her mandibles fluttering in coy delight.

“Hey Tilius,” she crooned.

“You ready to make some money, baby?” he said, mouth against her ear.

“You ready to become an honest man?” she replied, trailing a claw along his crest. It was hard to believe she’d only known him a few months. He’d swept her off her feet in this very bar after being introduced by a mutual contact. A smuggler like her, he’d blown in from the Terminus systems flush with credits and easy good looks, ‘searching for somewhere to hang up his rifle’, he’d said. They’d spent all night talking. He’d listened intently to Vetra’s life story, how her mother had died after her father abandoned them, her worries about her sister and dreams for her future. Too good to be true, she’d thought at the time. She’d spent the next week combing his background obsessively, but there was nothing there to suggest he’d ever done any worse to survive than she had, and when he talked about giving it all up for a life of peace and quiet, she could tell he meant it. She’d even looked up his family, and found truth in his tales of a father killed in military service, and three younger siblings subsisting on the money he made slinging contraband. He was what he said he was, which in Vetra’s world was as rare as it got.

“Ready to make an honest woman of you,” he was saying, pulling her flush against him.

“Hey,” the bartender called from where she was serving a sullen-looking pair of drell, “No canoodling at the bar. Get a room.”

Tilius rolled his eyes and relaxed his grip. “Ready to get a place of our own away from prying eyes,” he muttered. Vetra laughed again.

“Same here,” she replied. “Let’s do this. The shuttle’s waiting.”

The shuttle had been Vetra’s idea. A month ago, she’d called in a favour or two to get hold of the battered old vessel, after prying out of Tilius that he’d been approached by one of his Talon contacts. Apparently, they'd discovered a new seam of eezo deep within Omega’s asteroid base and were planning to expand their mining operations, and therefore their red sand output, without giving Aria T’Loak her customary share of the profits. They needed a... _discreet_ method of smuggling the necessary materials on board, and that was where Tilius and Vetra came in. He'd been reluctant to take on the job at first, but Vetra had recognised an opportunity for them to both get what they wanted: enough credits to get out of the smuggling business for good.

The old shuttle was nondescript enough to travel unnoticed through Citadel and Terminus space alike, and just large enough to cram in enough precursor chemicals to keep a red sand lab in business for a year. Vetra had sunk even more favours and an eye-watering number of credits into getting hold of those chemicals, stretching her networking skills to the limit. Weeks of hard work later, she’d flown the shuttle onto Omega herself, slipping right under Aria’s radar. And tonight they were going to hand it all over to Talon mercenaries for a payout big enough to kickstart a peaceful life for herself, Tilius, and both their families.

The air outside the club was barely easier to breathe, dense with the multilayered reek of Omega’s various industrial enterprises. The streets of the infamous space station were more like a living junkyard than a city. Pirates, mercs and smugglers drifted in from all over the galaxy, drawn to the endless parade of tiny, filthy shops selling anything and everything. No sunlight had ever touched these streets, and only the harsh glow of neon signage lit the way for Vetra and Tilius.

“How big a turf war do you think this’ll kick off?” Vetra asked as they walked hand in hand through the crowds.

“Does it matter?,” Tilius replied. “If Aria ever finds out the Talons are expanding business and not cutting her in, we’ll be on the other side of the galaxy. This shitpile of a station needs a good clean up anyway.”

Vetra had tried not  to think of the repercussions of what they were doing. Red sand only affected humans, a species she’d mostly had unpleasant or even violent interactions with. A few more of them picking up a drug habit wouldn’t lose her any sleep, or so she told herself. And if the Talons wanted to make a power play for control of Omega’s red sand production, they would do it with or without her help. Might as well get enough credits out of their greed to set her and Sid up for life.

The shuttle was parked in a rented hangar not far from the club, in an old, deserted part of the station. The buildings here were rusted out, graffitied over, home to only the odd band of vorcha. A perfect spot for making deals unseen by the Queen of Omega’s many eyes. Vetra punched the passcode into the terminal alongside the door, and it opened with a series of strained clanks and groans. Inside, the shuttle was a hulking shadow among a sea of disused crates, the gleam of two old fluorescent lights in the high ceiling doing little to dispel the darkness.

“I’m in contact with the Talon agent,” said Tilius, following her inside as he tapped at his omnitool. “They’ll be here soon.”

Vetra leaned against the shuttle and took a deep breath. It was all coming to a head. All the years of hard knocks, of fighting for scraps to keep her and Sid alive, of waking up every morning wondering if it was her last. It was over. Tilius took her hand in his.

“You ok, baby?”

Vetra nodded, feeling slightly giddy. “Let’s celebrate afterwards, huh?,” she asked softly, gazing into his blue eyes. “Your place.”

His mandibles flicked, and he looked away. “Sure thing.”

Vetra cocked her head. “Something wrong?” she asked. Tilius shrugged and let go of her hand.

“Just nerves. I hate dealing with these guys,” he replied. “Let me do the talking, okay? I know them. You be the big scary muscle. You’re good at that.”

“Ah, Tilius. You always know how to tell a lady what she wants to hear,” Vetra joked, pulling her beloved rifle from her back.

 

*****

 

They didn’t have to wait long. Scant minutes after their arrival, the door ground open once again, and a group of five turians strode in, wearing dark red armour and bristling with weapons.

“Tilius,” boomed the leader. “Good to see you again.” He was older, thickly scarred, and radiated a casual menace. Two of his crest spurs were snapped clean off, silently announcing his identity.

“Otho,” Tilius replied, nodding. “Good to see you, sir.”

The leader of the Talons nodded back, sweeping a claw behind him to indicate two turinas in his group who towered above everyone else. “You haven’t met my sons, have you? Derius and Caulus.” The huge pair glowered from behind their red and white face paint. How were they so _big_? Vetra was tall by turian standards, but they looked like they could match a krogan pound for pound. Must be something in the air pollution, Vetra decided, as Otho turned his attention to her.

“And _this_ ,” he said slowly, yellow eyes piercing the darkness, “is Vetra Nyx, no?”

Vetra felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees. The way he was looking at her was unsettling, like she was a prey animal. “Yeah,” she replied, as gruff as she could manage. She knocked the shuttle with her free hand. “Got the goods right here...sir.”

“Straight to the point, I see,” said Otho. “Very well. Derius, check the goods.”

The giant turians stepped forward. Derius motioned with his rifle point for Vetra to open the shuttle hatch, and she did so quickly. He boarded and started scanning crates with his omnitool while Caulus stared Vetra down. There was something in his gaze that was even more malevolent than his father’s, and Vetra felt her pulse quicken uncomfortably.

“Looks good to me, dad,” called Derius, after what felt like forever. “It’s all here.”

“Good, good,” said Otho. “Thank you, Tilius.” He brought up his omnitool, suffusing his disfigured face with an eerie glow. “Transferring the credits to you now.”

It was dawning on Vetra that something was horribly wrong. Why was he so blatantly ignoring her part in the transaction? The Talons were leering at her with obvious ill intent, while Tilius was looking anywhere but in her direction. The whole atmosphere felt wrong. Anxiously, she began casting about in her peripheral vision for an escape route. Five armed turian men between her and the only door. Not good odds.

“Done,” said Otho. “We can always trust you to deliver, Tilius.”

“Technically,” said Vetra in a voice far braver than she felt, “I’m the one who delivered.” Keep talking, she thought. Keep them talking until you can figure a way out of this.

“You know, Vetra,” Otho purred. “You did. Would have taken us months to get hold of all this without you. You’re doing better than your double-crossing father already. ”

Vetra and the Talons moved all at once. She backed against the shuttle, rifle levelled at Otho’s head, and found herself staring down four barrels.

“Tilius?” she croaked. He said nothing, staring resolutely at the ground. Otho laughed.

“Our ladies’ man over here got a lot of good intel out of you,” he said, “Your contacts, your business partners, even the colony where you keep your pretty little sister holed up. Got _almost_ everything we need.”

Vetra’s blood froze. “You’re fucking with me,” she growled. “Tilius, what is this?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” said Tilius meekly. “They just wanted me to find out where your dad is. I didn’t want it to come to this.” He looked up at Otho. ”You’re not gonna hurt her, right?”

“Depends,” said Otho. “You going to tell us where your daddy’s hiding out, Vetra?”

“I haven’t heard from him in years,” Vetra spat. “He abandoned us. Tilius, you piece of shit. Did you plan this from the start? Was _anything_ you said real?” The rifle was shaking in her hands, and it took every ounce of strength to keep it focused on the gang lord’s face. No time to fall apart now. She had to get out of this in one piece.

“Tilius agreed to help us not long after he met you,” said Otho. “He was more than happy to sell you out. Couldn’t get you to spill about Papa Nyx, but damn, he got some use out of you,” He motioned with his claws in a grossly lascivious gesture. “And I’m not even talking about _that_ kinda use.” The other Talons guffawed. Vetra trembled with a hot rush of anger and shame, and struggled to keep her voice level.

“I’ve had nothing to do with my dad since he walked out on us,” she said. “I don’t want anything to do with that worthless asshole. I don’t think he even wants to be found.”

“And why do you think that is?” said Otho. “Old Nyx swindled us out of a _lot_ of money. But I don’t for a second believe you don’t have any contact with him. Two reject kids get kicked off Palaven and just raise themselves and build a smuggling network out of nothing? It’s like something out of a shitty vid.”

“Well, life imitates art,” Vetra retorted. “I don’t know if he’s even alive.”

Otho sighed. “We’ll see if your tune changes after we kick your face in a little,” he said. “If not, at least this cargo here’ll go some way to repaying dear old Nyx’s debts.” He cracked his head to the side. “Tilius. You don’t want to see this, my friend. Run along and buy your little siblings something nice with all that money.”

Tilius finally looked into Vetra’s face. His mandibles quivered. “I’m sorry, Vetra,” he repeated. “I gotta think of my family. I’m sorry.” He hung his head again and hurried out of the warehouse, taking Vetra’s shattered dreams with him. She watched him go, battling her urge to shoot him as he fled.

“Things’ll go better for you if you drop that rifle,” growled Caulus, his own gun trained squarely between her eyes. “Just put it down, nice and slow.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Vetra replied, unmoving. “Just shoot me and be done with it.”

“ _Don’t_ be like this, Vetra,” said Otho. “I’m planning to leave you alive. You don’t want your sister to be all alone, do you? What’s her name? Sidera, right?”

Sid’s name in his mouth felt like he was despoiling it, but he was right. Her heart might be crumbling into a thousand pieces, but Vetra _couldn’t_ leave Sid alone. She crouched down and placed her rifle on the dirt-encrusted concrete. Whatever came next, she’d survive. She’d get back to her sister and they’d manage, somehow. Vetra drew a deep breath and stood, bracing herself for the oncoming beating.

“Very good,” said Otho, signalling for the others to lower their weapons. “Now, Vetra, I’m going to ask you one last time. Where is -”

A rifle barked, and a guard’s head erupted in a blue mist. The Talons had barely a moment to react before a second shot tore through the other guard’s plated chest. He collapsed with a gurgle.

“Get down!” Caulus screamed, firing blindly into the dark. Derius roared as a third shot took him in the knee, and he went down clutching it. Otho dove for cover behind a crate, unclipping a pistol from his side and yelling his stricken son’s name. Vetra moved on pure instinct, reaching down for her rifle and launching herself forward all at once. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Otho take aim at her, and she swivelled mid-step, squeezing the trigger and blasting out a concussive shot just as a fire ripped through her arm. A fountain of blue blood burst from the Talon leader’s chest as Vetra continued to run.

“No!” Caulus bellowed, levelling his gun at her. Vetra ducked without stopping, spraying fire in his direction, feeling the air superheat around her as his shots missed by centimetres. A small figure materialised out of the shadows in a flicker of electric blue and unleashed another barrage, and Caulus was forced to throw himself behind cover. Vetra homed in on the still-open door, ignoring the rounds zipping past her head. A few metres more. One metre.

She stumbled out into the street, her tiny rescuer hot on her heels, still firing back into the warehouse, wheezing through his breather.

“This way!” he yelled, beckoning with a stumpy arm, the other clutching a sniper rifle longer than he was tall. He darted across the street to where a small shuttle was parked. Vetra limped after him, collapsing in the passenger seat.

“Yora,” she huffed. “How did you...what are you _doing_ here?”

The volus fired up the engine, and a few seconds later they were tearing down the street.

“Looking out for you, you dumb turian,” he shot back, voice muffled by his breather. “Someone has to. I knew something like this would happen. _Knew_ it. As for _how_ ,” he patted a device fixed to the belt of his pressure suit, “Tactical cloak. Top of the line. Been dying to put it to use for ages.”

They flew around corner after corner, Yora steering deftly but frantically. There didn’t seem to be anyone after them, but it was only a matter of time…

“Are you hurt?” Vetra asked. “They didn’t get through your suit, did they?”

“I’m fine,” Yora replied. “Worry about yourself for a change. You got hit what, three times?”

“Just one I think,” Vetra muttered, before looking down at herself. “Oh, wait. Yeah, three. Funny how you don’t feel those right away...”

Her arm, her side, and a lower leg were bleeding a startling amount, and beginning to hurt. Yora waved at the back seat.

“There’s some medigel packets there somewhere,” he said. “Keep yourself alive while we get to my ship. Got to get you off this blasted rock before every Talon agent in town is on our heels. Did you really have to kill their boss?”

“He was trying to _shoot_ me,” Vetra replied, slathering medigel messily against her bleeding waist. “Plus, he teamed up with my piece of shit boyfriend to con me out of half my life savings, because of a grudge against my piece of shit dad.” She sighed in relief as the medigel did its work. “Ex-boyfriend,” she remembered belatedly. How could she have missed it? Tilius had seemed so genuine in his affections, and she'd checked his past so thoroughly. If only she’d thought to look up her father’s past. She felt sick. Yora squeezed her good knee.

“Just stop talking,” he said. “Save your strength, or whatever. We’ve got to get to your sister before they do.”

 

*****

 

“I’m sorry,” said Sid. “Could you run that by me again? Because it sounds like you said my sister _accidentally took out the leader of the Talons_ , and now they’re on their way to exact their revenge. Is that right?”

“That’s right,” said Vetra, leaning back into the battered sofa. Sid sat next to her, clutching Vetra’s hands in her own, while in front of them, Yora paced the living room floor. It had taken them the better part of two days to reach the sisters’ apartment, hurtling at breakneck speed across the galaxy. Vetra’s wounds were healing well, but she was still drained and aching. To make things worse, the emotional fallout was finally catching up to her too. After so many years alone, she’d finally convinced herself that there could be someone besides her sister who might love her. Tilius’ betrayal was a greater agony than any gunshot.

“I can’t believe Tilius could do something like that,” Sid sighed. “He seemed so nice, from your emails.”

“He sold me out,” Vetra mumbled. “He cheated me out of what I’d saved to buy us a real home, and things got messy. That’s all you need to know.”

“We’re going to track him down and get our money back, right?” Sid pressed. “No-one pulls a fast one on you.”

“You lie low, is what you do,” said Yora. “Tilius can wait. Get off this colony and somewhere off the grid for a while. Otho’s mutant sons are going to want to tear your sister to shreds. You too, probably.”

“But I like this colony!” Sid objected. “And we only just moved here! Can’t we just tell security these guys are after us?”

“Not without telling them the whole story,” said Vetra. “And then we’ll get booted out anyway for being good for nothing smugglers”

Sid slumped back into the sofa, evidently struggling to process the news. She looked up at Yora.

“I’m sorry, Yora,” she said. “I haven’t even thanked you for saving my sister’s life. It doesn’t sound like she’d have made it without you.”

“Maybe not,” Yora replied. “Couldn’t let my best trader get her carapace kicked in, could I?” He patted Vetra’s knee. “I should be on my way,” he said. “Got to cover my own tracks. Keep in contact, Vetra. I’ll still have work for you when this all dies down.”

Sid showed the little volus to the door and thanked him again before returning to Vetra’s side.

“Vee..”

“I was so stupid, Sid,” Vetra said quietly. “So stupid to trust that asshole, to think that someone could actually…” She trailed off, unable to finish without her voice cracking. Sid threw her arms around Vetra and pulled her close, cradling her sister’s head against her shoulder.

“I love you, Vee,” she said gently. “You're not stupid. You're brave and kind and deserve a wonderful partner who’ll cherish you.”

Vetra said nothing for a minute, closing her eyes and wilting into her sister’s embrace. She was so tired. Couldn’t she sleep a while and discuss this when she didn’t feel so utterly wretched?

“I know you don’t want to leave, Sid,” she said eventually. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t completely necessary. It might even be best if we didn’t see each other for a while. I’ll be too big a target.”

“No!” cried Sid, gripping Vetra tighter. “Even if we have to leave the colony, you’re not allowed to leave me! There has to be a way for us to stay together. We’ve already lost Mom and Dad. You’re _not_ allowed to leave too.”

“I’m going to be dangerous to be around, Sid,” Vetra explained. She drew back to make eye contact with her sister. “Dad went dark because of these guys. For us to stay together, we’d have to go somewhere far enough that Talon will never be able to reach us…” She sat upright as an idea hit her. Sid blinked curiously.

“Vee?”

Vetra clasped both of Sidera’s hands in her own, and looked her dead in the eyes.

“Sid, what do you know about the Andromeda Initiative?”


	2. Though You May Cross Vast Seas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to everyone who commented/kudos'd. I've added a bit of an epigraph to the first chapter, so feel free to check that out. Otherwise, on with the story.
> 
> Not planning on reading the tie-in novel, so if this chapter veers wildly off-canon, that's why.

The Nexus was burning. Scattered flames sprouted along the dark expanse of the ward like dying stars in the night. Emergency vehicles zipped back and forth between fires, disgorging streams of flame retardant. The fires were starkly visible even from the central hub, where Vetra Nyx stood at the window of the cryo bay and stared in horror at the sight. At her lips, half-eaten nutrient bar dangled forgotten from her fingers.

“Rude awakening, huh?” said a nearby human, red hair still tousled from his long sleep. “They tell you what’s going on?”

“Not a thing,” Vetra replied. She’d woken to find an asari doctor already running basic scans of her vitals. She'd given her the all clear and passed her the nutrient bar before running off to deal with another freshly resuscitated colonist. When she’d felt well enough to stand, Vetra had wandered past the rows of open pods and their groggy occupants to this window and it's vow of the distant, burning ward. She was a little foggy on the details of the Initiative’s arrival plan, but she was pretty sure that nothing in the schedule included their space station catching fire.

“Are they waking us up to evacuate?” she heard someone ask. It didn’t seem likely. There was no alarm, no voice over the intercom asking everyone not to panic. The doctors seemed unsettled, but not frantic. No, Vetra decided. Something stranger was going on.

“Vetra Nyx?”

She found a young salarian standing to attention behind her. Vetra nodded at him.

“That’s me.”

“Follow me, please,” he asked in that rapid-fire way of his species. “The Superintendent needs a word with you.”

 

*****

 

The muffled sound of heated voices leaked through Superintendent Kesh’s closed door. Vetra hesitated to open it, but her salarian chaperone ushered her through insistently. The voices stopped abruptly as the door swished open, and she entered to find her old krogan friend with a human female she recognised as Director Foster Addison. Both women were glaring up at her from a desk piled with data pads.

“Um. I can come back?” Vetra offered. Kesh relaxed and shook her massive head.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Vetra,” she said, motioning the turian over to the desk. “Sorry. We’ve been dealing with interruptions from prying idiots all morning.”

Vetra approached the desk, nodding at Addison but trying to avoid eye contact. There was something weirdly off-putting about the Director, as if the muscles of her face were still cryo-frozen and her eyes were trying their best to get away. Kesh on the other hand looked merely exhausted, older than when Vetra had seen her last, as though she’d spent their six hundred year trip running laps around the Nexus.

“There’s a lot to catch you up on,” Kesh said. “It isn’t pretty.”

“Just about everything that could have gone wrong, has,” said Addison. “We’ve spent the past five months trying to get everything back on track, but we’re getting desperate.”

“Five months?” Vetra asked. “We’ve been here that long?” She’d been scheduled to wake up after three.

“Trust me, it’s felt even longer,” Kesh retorted. She sighed and scratched irritably at her headplate. “Buckle in. This’ll take a while.”

The next ten minutes saw Vetra growing more alarmed with each new piece of information. Jien Garson and the other leaders dead. The arks missing. The cluster shot through with a strange substance that had tanked the Nexus and made navigation next to impossible. A hostile group of locals attacking scout ships. And worst of all, the golden worlds they’d managed to survey were uninhabitable wastelands.

“People started getting really restless after the Eos colony failed,” said Kesh, pulling up a satellite image of a burned-out settlement half buried beneath waves of red sand. “Between the radiation and the Kett, they didn’t stand a chance.”

“And then we found the dextro-amino planet,” said Addison, folding her arms.

The new turian homeworld. “That’s good, isn't it?” Vetra asked hopefully.

Addison’s jaw twitched. “Let me rephrase. We found where it _used_ to be. Scans show it was obliterated, probably by the Scourge. It’s nothing but a cloud of debris.”

Vetra was stunned. She'd never planned on settling on the dextro homeworld herself, but every turian’s life was in jeopardy if there was no planet where their food could be produced. She thought about Sid, still in her cryo pod and oblivious to everything waiting for her when she finally woke up. How was she going to explain to her sister that the homeworld they’d travelled so far for no longer even existed?

“I'm sorry, my friend,” said Kesh, reaching for Vetra’s shoulder. “This can't be easy to hear.”

“It certainly upset a lot of your people,” Addison interjected, heedless of the turmoil written across Vetra’s face. “Now there’s hundreds of people rioting.”

“So...the fires…” Vetra realised, still dazed.

“Arson,” Kesh confirmed. “They’ve been wreaking havoc across the Nexus to spread our forces as thin as possible. The majority are barricaded at the entrance to the main cargo hold, blocking our access to supplies.”

Vetra gathered herself. There’d come a time to mourn for yet another lost future. She cleared her throat. “What are they asking for?”

“They want off the Nexus,” Kesh replied, resting her considerable bulk on a stocky arm. “To take as much as they can transport and make a go of settling planets themselves. Only thing stopping them is that we still have their relatives in cryo. So, they’re sitting on our food supplies until we give up their next of kin.”

“You're holding their kids hostage,” said Vetra flatly.

“They’re holding the fate of the whole Initiative hostage,” Addison shot back, “We’re doing what we need to make sure those kids _survive_.”

Vetra bit back the argument rising on her tongue, and opted to change the topic instead.

“Kelly can’t get them under control?”

The head of security was a terrifying woman, not to be trifled with. But Kesh only laughed humourlessly.

“Sloane Kelly? She’s _leading_ them.”

Vetra pressed a claw against her temple and sighed. “This isn’t just a really vivid cryo-dream, is it?“

“Cryo-dreams aren’t a thing,” Addison snapped. “This is real. We’re in real, deep shit. Excuse the poetry.”

Poetry? Was Vetra’s translator malfunctioning? Before she could decide, the door slid open and in thumped the oldest krogan she had ever seen, hoary face as pitted with battle scars as his yellow armour. And were those... _bones_ strapped around his collar?

“I miss anything?” the old krogan growled

“We’ve just started,” Kesh replied. “Vetra, I’d like you to meet my grandfather, Nakmor Drack.”

Drack wrapped a huge hand around Vetra’s and pumped it up and down with the force of a jackhammer. “Pleasure. Heard good things about you.”

“Likewise,” said Vetra, through gritted teeth, hoping her arm wasn’t dislocated.

“We’d like you two to work together,” said Kesh, bringing up a map on the screen behind her, “on a mission of critical importance.”

The map was of the Nexus’ only completed Ward. Kesh zoomed in on the freighter docks, where a single transport ship was highlighted in red.

Addison cleared her throat. “Before the rebels took over the cargo hold, that ship was being prepped to carry supplies to our second colony. Sloane won’t release it until we comply with her demands. Meanwhile, our people on Eos are dying.”

“On Eos?” Vetra interrupted. “You mean, you sent _another_ load of people to the irradiated dustball crawling with hostiles?”

“I’d take my chances on the ground,” Drack rumbled. “Beats being stuck in this shiny tin can.”

“I’m sure we’d all prefer to be on terra firma,” said Addison pointedly. “But that can’t happen until we get a viable outpost going. If we can’t, this station will be a coffin for us all.” She readjusted the map to show the whole kilometre-long cargo hold, a red line weaving through it and ending at the dock.

“The rebels have hacked the anti-air turrets, so we can only get you so far by shuttle. To this side entrance, here.” A red dot pulsed where the entrance was located. “You’ll have to work your way through the hold and liberate that freighter.”

“I don’t know what Kesh has told you about my skillset,” Vetra replied, “But won't the hold be heavily guarded inside? I can only fight my way through so many.”

Addison gestured at Drack. “We’ve struck a deal with clan Nakmor,” she explained. “In return for the krogans’ help crushing the rebellion, they’ll get a seat on our board.”

“Heard that one before,” Drack grumbled. Addison ignored him.

“They’ll assault the rebels from the front, while you sneak round the back. You should meet with minimal resistance.” She fixed Vetra with that weird, emotionless stare. “Can we count on you?”

Vetra’s mind raced. It was clear that what was left of the Initiative leadership was rapidly losing control of the situation, and resorting to measures that were completely unhinged. If things were about to descend into anarchy, perhaps it would be better to side with the anarchists. But then there was Sid, still whose life was still very much in the grip of the Initiative. There was only one thing Vetra could do to protect her.

“I’ll do it,” she decided, “For a price.”

“Name it,” said Kesh.

“Get my sister out of cryo. Get her a job doing something as far away from danger as possible.”

“Done,” said Kesh, before Addison could object. The Director scowled in silence as Kesh turned back to the map.

“Now,” said the krogan, “Let’s go over the plan again.”

 

*****

 

“Same shit, different galaxy, huh?” Drack grunted.

Vetra leaned forward to see better out of the shuttle window. Above them arched the colossal skeleton of one of the incomplete Wards, black and jagged against the ethereal blue of the gas giant behind it. In the streets below, the fierce battle between rebels and loyalists raged on.

“It never ends, does it?” Vetra mused.

Drack snorted. “I’ve been alive a long time. Seen a lot. People don't change.”

“A new galaxy, though. Hard to believe it.”

The only response from Drack was a disinterested grunt. He was preoccupied with watching the mayhem below them.

Vetra checked over her power armour one last time. A gift from Yora in the days before the Initiative departed the Milky Way forever, she still remembered the note that had come with it.

_Don’t get shot again._

He was dead now, along with her father and everyone else Vetra had ever cared about. Even Tilius. She wondered how _his_ life had ended. Had he finally crossed the wrong person? Or had he taken Otho’s money and settled down with his family? Had he died peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by the grandchildren she’d thought would be hers too? Had he spent his life regretting what he'd done to her, or had he died remorseless?

A change in acceleration broke  Vetra out of her thoughts. They’d arrived. The asari pilot took them down on a rooftop, out of sight from anyone on the ground.

“Good luck,” she said over her shoulder. “We’re counting on you.”

“Let’s get this over with,” said Drack, opening the shuttle door and hopping out. “My trigger claw’s been itching for six hundred years.” Vetra nodded at the pilot before following Drack. He stopped at the edge of the roof to scout out their way in. Behind them, the shuttle lifted off and sped back to the hub.

“Huh. Looks like Sloane knows about our side entrance.”

“I count five guards,” said Vetra. “Armed.”

“Good,” Drack grunted. “A warm up before the real fighting starts.”

“If we go in hot, they might call for backup,” Vetra warned.

“If we go in hot enough, they won’t have time.”

Before Vetra could react, Drack had heaved himself off the roof, slammed feet-first to the ground and set off running. Vetra swore, leaping after him, landing awkwardly. She fumbled with the rifle on her back as she raced after the krogan, losing sight of him as he turned the final corner. There was a blood-curdling roar followed by a series of panicked cries and a volley of shots. She stumbled around the bend just in time to see a turian already crumpled on the ground, and Drack charging at a terrified human, winding up with his hammer. He swung, catching the man in the gut and sending him flying into a far wall.

“We surrender! We surrender!”

A salarian guard had dropped his rifle and was cowering on the ground. The other two, a human and an asari, followed suit. Drack, heaving with exertion, blinked back his blood rage. He spat on the ground in disgust.

“These ain’t soldiers,” he scoffed. The salarian whimpered.

“I’m just an engineer!” he pleaded. “We all are! The guys who know how to fight left us here to go defend against the krogans.”

“Alright, alright, don't piss your pants,’ Drack grumbled as Vetra caught up. "I guess we don't _have_ to kill you."

“Let’s just call the shuttle back,” she suggested. “Let the Initiative deal with them.”

A few minutes later, Vetra and Drack were watching the shuttle scud back to HQ with a five new passengers.

“How many of them do you think are like that?” Vetra mused. “Just scared, desperate civilians?”

“Does it make a difference?” Drack scoffed. “They’re bodies getting in the way of what you and I want.”

“That black and white, huh?”

But the old krogan was already hustling back to the door. “Come on!” he yelled. “Maybe we’ll find a better fight inside!”

Vetra battled the doubts rearing in her mind. It didn’t matter that she might have to fight people who were trying to survive, just like she was. It didn’t matter that their mission was probably only going to prolong the suffering of a group of doomed colonists. What mattered was that this was what she had to do to protect her sister.

Vetra followed Drack into the gloom, leaving her misgivings behind.

 

*****

 

The cargo hold appeared deserted, much to Drack’s displeasure. The pair moved quickly and quietly through a monotonous series of vast storage bays, many already looted. The rebels had been busy.

“How much longer?” Drack complained as they passed through yet another ransacked room. Vetra held up a hand to silence him.

“You hear that?” she asked. They listened intently. Through the narrow doorway ahead of them came the sounds of voices.

Drack and Vetra approached stealthily, emerging onto a narrow balcony. They dropped into cover behind a panelled section of the railing, peeping over to see what they were up against.

More than twenty rebels were scattered about the huge bay, rooting through containers and piling armfuls of food into waiting carts. Some of the looters were armed, but none seemed like they’d ever seen a fight in their lives. All seemed nervous, moving in a hurry, grabbing anything that looked useful.

At the far end, tucked into a corner, was the elevator to the docks.

“Last leg,” Vetra whispered. “Let’s try to do this with as little bloodshed as possible, okay? They're just civilians.”

Drack rolled his eyes. “Killjoy.”

But before they could make their move, a door below and to the right of them whooshed open. A gang of well-armed turians and humans strolled in, led by a figure that Vetra recognised with a jolt of horror. She ducked back behind the railing, eyes wide in disbelief, breath stuck in her throat. How was _he_ here? He should have been five hundred years dead and two million light years away. Praying that she’d been mistaken, Vetra slowly peered back over the railing.

He’d replaced his red face paint and armour with black, but there could be no mistaking that massive form. Caulus. One of the giant sons of Otho had followed her to Andromeda.

Vetra swore under her breath. Was the other twin here too? Had they come all this way to avenge their father? Or was this some bizarre coincidence, the sick joke of a universe that seemed determined to shit on her at every opportunity?

"We should find another route," she whispered to Drack. "This isn't a guy we want to tangle with."

"We got the drop on 'em," Drack replied, in as quiet a voice as a krogan could manage, "Just gotta push through to that elevator."

The looters stopped in their tracks as Caulus prowled through the room towards a petrified asari. His goons fanned out, rifles at the ready.

“What,” he snarled, looming over the asari, “are you insects doing with _my_ cargo?”

The asari gaped helplessly. “Sloane sent us,” she said. “Please, we didn’t know it belonged to anyo-”

He backhanded her, sending her crashing lifeless to the ground. Someone screamed.

“You don’t fuck with what’s mine!” Caulus shouted, aiming his pistol at a cowering salarian. “You don’t fuck with the Black Fangs!”

He fired. The shot hit the salarian dead between the eyes. Before the body had hit the ground, the Black Fangs lit up the room with a barrage of fire, felling more looters.as they scrambled in a panic for the far door.

Drack growled and leapt to his feet. Vetra grabbed at him.

“Wait, Drack-”

But the krogan was gone, vaulting over the railing and bellowing as he went. He slammed onto a luckless turian with a crunch that made Vetra cringe. He rose, unloading a deafening burst of shrapnel right into the gut of a startled human.

“Pick on someone who can give you a fair fight!” Drack roared, as the rest of the Black Fangs finally noticed him. He rolled into cover as the gang turned their weapons on him. He loaded up an incendiary round amid a storm of return fire.

“A thousand credits to whoever kills that krogan!” yelled Caulus, as flaming plasma engulfed another of his thugs. The Black Fangs scattered to find cover.

On the balcony, Vetra had recovered enough of her senses to act. “You crazy old man,” she mumbled as she took aim and picked off an unsuspecting thug.

“Up there!” someone yelled. “Another one!”

A hail of shots shredded the flimsy metal barrier, narrowly missing Vetra as she rolled away.

As slugs thudded into the wall above her head, she pressed the button on her wrist to power up her shields.

“Okay, Yora,” she muttered, as the scintillating blue light encased her, “Time to test this out.” She steeled herself, then leapt out into the fray. She hit the ground and charged after Drack, shots pinging uselessly off her shields as she fired back.

The old warrior was blazing a trail towards the elevator, thick armour soaking up shots as he barreled forwards. A shot to the knee finally staggered him, and he sank behind a crate just as Vetra reached him.

“You okay?” she yelled over the staccato of slugs pounding their cover. Drack wheezed and waved her away.

“It’s nothing.”

Vetra checked her shields. Down to twenty percent, and they had covered barely half the ground to the elevator. Damn, damn, damn. She gripped Drack by one huge shoulder.

“I’m going ahead,” she shouted in his ear. “Cover me!”

She sprang up from behind the crate, firing blindly. A goon fell. Vetra surged over the body, unloading a concussive shot into the belly of another. She was moving too fast to tell what species anyone was. A round caught her in the shoulder, and her shields crackled and died. Vetra launched herself forward. With a crash that stole the wind from her, she landed behind a pillar. The elevator wasn’t far now. She risked a look around the corner, and ducked back as a shot sparked off the metal. She could hear Caulus screaming orders, or threats, but couldn’t see him. She had to try to take him out, here and now. Stop him from becoming an even bigger problem.

Behind her, Drack was raging. Vetra watched in awe as the krogan scooped up a fuel drum and hurled it. The drum crashed into a turian henchman, bowling him over. Drack fired. The barrel exploded, throwing bodies left and right.

Liquid fire rained down, forcing the remaining Black Fangs to scatter. Now or never, Vetra realised.

She started sprinting as Drack lurched past her, disappearing into the thick smoke. Was he... _laughing_? Whatever. The elevator was right up ahead.

The air left Vetra’s lungs as something huge slammed into her side. She went down, skidding across the floor, a heavy weight crushing her chest. She blinked her streaming eyes and looked up, right into the soot-streaked face of Caulus.

His eyes widened. “ _You_ …”

Vetra struggled, but the giant turian was kneeling on her with all his weight, pinning her shoulders. Caulus bent forward until his face was almost touching hers.

“You!” he hissed. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Vetra coughed. Between the smoke and Caulus’ weight, she was suffocating.

“Could...could ask you the same.” she gasped.

She grunted as he whipped her across the cheek with his pistol.

“You bitch! You ruined me!” he snarled. “You’re the reason I had to leave the Milky Way!”

“ _I’m_ the reason _you_ had to leave?” Vetra wheezed, lifting her head incredulously. Caulus hit her again. Stars erupted behind her eyelids. Faceplates ringing with the pain, Vetra cried out Drack's name, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see her through the smoke.

The hot metal of the pistol pressed against her temple.

“Your big friend can't help you now,” he drawled, in a tone chillingly similar to his father’s, “Wish I could draw this out more, but I’ve got better things to do.”

Desperately, Vetra banged her wrist against Caulus’ knees. Her shields flared up instantly. Caulus blinked, then threw back his head in laughter.

“You stupid bitch! You know that doesn’t cover your face, right?” He pressed down with the pistol, mashing her head against the ground. “No wonder Tilius duped you so easily. Spirits, I’m just putting you out of your misery. You should thank me.”

Vetra looked him dead in the eyes, and beat her wrist against him again.

A blinding explosion, and Caulus shot up into the smoke, limbs flailing, as the suit vented its shields. Vetra gasped for air and rolled over, dazzled and disoriented. The smoke was so thick now, she could barely see her own feet. She needed to find the elevator.

“Vetra! Get your ass over here!”

Drack! She scrambled towards his voice, coughing and stumbling.

“Now, Vetra!”

There he was, crouched inside the open elevator, firing into the smoke. Vetra ran for it, tumbling in as the door slid closed. She lay on the floor, hacking and wheezing, as the elevator hummed into life.

Drack peered down at her, bleeding from a head wound.

“Friend of yours?” he asked. “Heard him yelling at you.”

Vetra closed her eyes wearily. “His father was head of the Talons,” she explained. “I killed him.”

Drack’s lips peeled back in a toothy, bloody grin. “Heh heh. That was you, huh? You're alright, Vetra Nyx.”

“How did he get here?” she wondered aloud. “Why is he here? He wasn’t after me.”

“Heard there was some kinda showdown after Otho died,” said Drack. “His kids fighting it out for control. Guess he was the loser. Not surprised. Seems like a jumped-up little pissant with a chip on his shoulder.”

“He got run off Omega and decided to join the Initiative? But how the hell did he slip through screening?”

“Probably the same as you and me,” Drack shrugged. “Connections.”

Vetra threw an arm across her face. As if Andromeda hadn’t thrown enough shit her way in the less than ten hours she’d been conscious, her Milky Way troubles just had to follow her.

“He said that cargo was his,” she remembered. “Did he smuggle something aboard?”

“Could be. That family’s bad news.”

“He’s up to something,” Vetra mused. “He’s gotten a _gang_ together already. Cheesy name and everything. This can’t be anything good. And now he knows I’m here.” A horrible thought hit her, and she sat up. “What if he realises that means Sid’s here, too? What if he goes after her to get to me?”

The elevator doors slid open.

“Worry about it later,” Drack ordered. “We got a mission to finish.”

The elevator opened to a large hangar with with the hazy light of the nebula spilling through its entrance. The dock.

“Finally,” said Vetra. “Let’s get out of this dump.”

 

*****

 

Eight months passed.

 

The rebels, or Exiles now, departed the Nexus, following Sloane Kelly in search of a life away from the rule of the Initiative.The krogans left soon after, betrayed and vowing enmity. Drack had left with them. The second colony on Eos failed, in spite of the supplies Vetra had helped deliver. Day by day, the dream of the Initiative fractured.

Vetra got by, as she always did. Sid was awake, and as happy and safe as she could be, under the circumstances. The hunt for Caulus had been fruitless. His name wasn’t on any passenger list, and none of the doctors she quizzed could remember waking up a particularly large turian. His attending doctor had probably left with the Exiles, as he most definitely had. There were reports that the Exiles had actually managed to settle one of the golden worlds, and Vetra knew that was where her search needed to take her. Unfortunately, getting off the Nexus had proved impossible. Until today.

The Hyperion had finally docked. The human ark, thought lost for so long, was the single ray of hope left to the remaining colonists. They had a Pathfinder, or as Vetra liked to think, her ticket to the rest of Heleus. She’d pulled whatever strings she needed to get assigned to the Pathfinder’s new ship, the _Tempest_. Had prepped its supplies herself. And today was the day they would finally leave.

Everything on the Nexus had seemed a little happier today, On her way to the docks with Sid, Vetra had passed people who were actually smiling, laughing even. She hadn’t seen people so excited in six hundred years. Even the plants in Hydroponics had seemed to bloom a little brighter. On its landing pad, the Tempest gleamed like a spear.

Sid had given her a bone-crushing hug at the foot of the ship’s loading ramp before rushing off to work. Vetra smiled at the memory as she stood in the quiet of the Tempest’s cargo hold. It was a lot more peaceful than the last one she’d been in, she thought.

“Hey! Vetra!”

Well. A little more peaceful at least.

“Hi Gil,” she replied, turning to see the engineer striding across the floor towards her.

They’d met during Initiative training, and become fast friends. Charming and always good for a laugh, Gil had tempered Vetra’s opinion of humans virtually overnight. Getting him on the _Tempest_ had been a little harder, what with his personal record, but a favour here and a special delivery there...and Vetra had secured at least one ally aboard the ship.

“Fucking finally,” he said as he reached her, opening his arms for a hug. Vetra was getting a lot of those today. She was pleasantly surprised to smell only a little whiskey on Gil’s breath.

“What’s this?” she asked as they released each other. “Sobering up?”

Gil laughed. “For now. Got to drink sparingly while booze is in short supply.”

“I can probably keep you mildly inebriated for a good while,” Vetra replied. “Just don’t let our Pathfinder find out.”

“Speaking of,” said Gil, peering around her shoulder. “Looks like that’s her coming up now.”

Vetra followed his gaze. Sure enough, striding towards the open ramp were two humans.

“Which one is it?” she asked. “The one with the lopsided hair?”

“Nah. The other one, pretty sure.”

“No way!” Vetra hissed. “That’s a kid, isn’t it? She’s _tiny_!”

“I mean, relative to you, I guess. She’s kinda little.” Gil patted Vetra’s back gently. “Got to go get presentable for our new boss,” he said. “You start with the introductions. I’ll catch up.”

He scuttled off, leaving Vetra to meet the Pathfinder alone. She squared her shoulders, taking a deep, steadying breath. This first impression was going to be crucial. She was going to have to make herself indispensable to this human girl if she was ever going to get to the Exile’s planet.

Drawing herself up to her impressive full height, Vetra strode down the ramp and into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my headcanon that all the glitchy Addison weirdness is a real, in-universe thing, and no patch can take that away from me.
> 
> Spoiler: Tilius got reaped lol


	3. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a little disappointed at how Cora's bitterness about getting shafted by Alec wasn't really a thing unless you bothered to go talk to her. It could have made for a really interesting dynamic between her and Ryder.
> 
> I was wary of doing the whole 'Shepard/Ryder is a terrible driver' thing, but really that thing is so hard to steer (and so fun to ramp) that writing any different would be indisputably non-canonical.

“Vetra, Vetra Nyx. Initiative wrangler, provisioner, gunner, and everything in between.” Vetra struck a dashing pose on the landing pad as she came face to face with the two human women. “Are we ready? The sooner we get out of here the better.”

The Pathfinder goggled.

“ _You’re_ coming with us?”

Vetra paused. She’d been mentally rehearsing her slick introduction all morning, but Ryder was looking a lot less impressed than she’d hoped for. Her eyes narrowed behind her eyepiece. _Play it cool._

“Yes. Otherwise, there’s no way they’re letting this ship off the station.”

The Pathfinder seemed unconvinced, looking to the woman at her side for confirmation.

“Something wrong, Ryder?” asked the other woman. From her voice, Vetra recognised Cora Harper, who she’d spoken to a few times over omnitool.

“No!” Ryder blurted. “I mean...great.” She stared past Vetra to the waiting _Tempest_. “Let’s go explore the rest of Heleus.”

Not off to a great start, Vetra thought as she led the way up the ramp, a flutter of worry in her chest. Did the Pathfinder have something against turians? A lot of humans did. This could be bad. She needed the Pathfinder to want her around.

They weren’t halfway up before hitting another snag.

“Hold it! Hold it! You’re not going anywhere!”

An officious looking man was hastening towards them across the tarmac, brandishing a datapad. Ben Nichols. The walking embodiment of red tape.

“Damn it,” she seethed.

She watched Ben squabble with Cora. Addison had sent him to overturn the departure clearance that Director Tann had given them. Ugh, Addison. Trying to interfere, as always. Vetra had no idea how the Initiative was still chugging along when its three leaders were constantly undermining each other.

Taking Ben by the shoulder and gently steering him a little distance away, Vetra pacified him with a couple of promises she thought she might be able to keep, and sent him on his way. When she turned about, the Pathfinder was staring, agape.

“Wow.”

Vetra’s mandibles flicked in satisfaction. _This might not be so hard after all._

 

*****

 

_To: Vetra Nyx_

_I hear there was some last-minute interference from my colleague. I’m glad you were able to forestall her snooping. I’ve informed the contact that it may be some time before you are able to rendezvous with him. Inform me a day before you expect to dock, and I will arrange the details of the meeting. I’ve kept my end of the bargain, Vetra. I have faith that you will keep yours._

_-Tann_

 

Vetra deleted the email with an irritated click of her tongue. She hated dealing with Tann, and hated that she'd had to get tangled up in his shady business in order to get on the Tempest. If Ben had found the humble little box that Vetra had crammed in with the rest of their cargo…well. Tann would deny all knowledge, of course, and Vetra would be on a one-way trip to exile. Luckily, it was a simple job. A single delivery, and she'd be able to extricate herself from this tiresome intrigue.

It was several hours into the trip to Eos. Vetra had spent most of the time parked in front of her terminal, furiously emailing the contacts she’d left behind on the Nexus. Contracts needed following through. Goods needed to change hands. The ears of those in power needed whispering in. It was a delicate, intricate balance, a gossamer web spun with favours and promises, in need of constant upkeep.

Her inbox pinged. She frowned. There was no sender...but a cursory scan declared it clean.

 

_To: Vetra Nyx_

_My eyes and ears on the Nexus tell me you’ve finally left! You SURE it’s a good idea to leave that DEAR sister of yours all alone?? Take my advice and run back to where Kesh can protect you, and enjoy what time you have. Because I WILL be coming for you AND your sister!_

 

Caulus had finally reared his head. Good. Perhaps with enough digging, she'd be able to trace the origin of the email. SAM of course would be able to do it far quicker, but she wasn't going to risk getting the Pathfinder involved.

As she started to run the trace program, a voice at the door startled her.

“Vetra? Got a minute?”

She closed the email hurriedly and looked away from her console to see the Pathfinder leaning against her doorway, chewing her lip. Vetra sighed internally. She’d last seen Ryder stalking off to the bridge, after a painfully awkward tour of the ship in which the young leader had seemed more dismayed than impressed. Maybe she’d been expecting something closer to the _Hyperion_. Whatever the case, Vetra wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.

“Sure thing, Ryder. Something you need?”

Ryder stepped in, letting the door slide closed behind her, so that the room was illuminated only by the soft glow of the engine core from the window behind them. She squirmed anxiously for several seconds, shifting nervously from foot to foot, her arms crossing and re-crossing in front of her chest. Vetra noticed, for the first time, a scar tracing an abrupt line along the outside of her right eye socket. Finally, Ryder seemed to make up her mind. Her nostrils flared with a determined exhalation, and she looked up, holding Vetra’s gaze steadily.

“I wanted to apologise for earlier,” she said.

“For what?”

“On the landing pad, I wasn’t very polite to you. I don’t want you to think it was anything personal.”

“I didn’t,” Vetra lied.

Ryder loosened her stance a bit, relieved.

“I wasn’t expecting any non-humans to be aboard,” she admitted. “Other than Lexi, I’ve never served with aliens before. On top of everything else, it was another surprise, and I kind of shorted out. I’m sorry if I was weird to you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ryder,” said Vetra, feeling a little relieved herself. “I hope you’re feeling better now.”

Ryder bit her lip again.

“It’s still overwhelming,” she said quietly. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m worried I’ll let everyone down.”

Poor thing, Vetra thought, her heart softening. Sara reminded her a little of herself a year ago, when she'd also woken up with a pile of shit dumped in her lap. But Vetra hadn't watched her own father die, hadn't almost lost a sibling, and hadn't been saddled with a title she’d never asked for. No wonder she was shell shocked. Vetra racked her brain for somethng she could say to reassure her.

“I’m nervous too, you know.”

The surprise on Ryder’s face matched Vetra’s own. How had _that_ been what spilled out? _Smooth_ , she scolded herself.

“I mean,” she staggered on, “We don't know what we’ll find out there, or if we’ll be ready for it. But you have a great team behind you, and you can count on us. You can definitely count on me.”

Like clouds clearing after rain, the tension lifted from Ryder’s shoulders. She smiled, warm and genuine.

“Thanks, Vetra,” she said softly.

Something in Vetra’s chest twinged, like a gentle hand had reached in and plucked at a heartstring. For a moment, the two stood in quiet contemplation of each other, cocooned together in the soft blue light.

Ryder jerked out of it first, taking a step back towards the door.

“You probably have a lot of work. I should let you get back to it.” The door opened, and Ryder turned to go. “Thanks, Vetra,” she repeated, giving the turian another warm smile. Vetra found herself cursing her anatomy and wishing she could smile back. She settled for waving a claw.

“Any time, Ryder.”

 

*****

 

Eos. The name stirred up a lingering dread in the hearts of every soul in the Initiative. Too many good people had gone down to the planet’s dusty surface and never been heard from again. Eos was a harsh, pitiless world, an endless orange wasteland of windscraped rock formations and radioactive grit. How anyone on the Nexus had greenlighted multiple colonisation attempts was beyond Vetra.

The consequences of the Leadership’s hubris were now laid out before the crew of the _Tempest_. A sad, silent cluster of prefab buildings littered the valley floor, half buried in sand. Ryder led the group as they combed the buildings for clues, stymied by a power shortage that left most of the doors inaccessible. Vetra found herself straying from the party, drawn to what looked like a small habitation block with a busted window. She knocked away the shattered glass hanging from the frame and heaved herself through.

A kitchen. A rank smell curdled the air. Clapping a hand over her nose, Vetra took a cursory look around, finding it stripped of rations and usable equipment. She stepped into the adjoining bedroom. Three bunk beds were set into the far wall, all occupied.

Six corpses, all human apart from a single salarian. The arid climate had practically mummified them. They laid like withered leaves, clothes rustling in the slight breeze. Drawing closer, Vetra could see, beyond the dessication, clear signs of radiation sickness. Hair loss. Blistered, flaking skin. Pools of weeks-dried vomit.

Her gut flipped. Vetra doubled up as her breakfast fought to disgorge itself, the acrid tang burning her throat. The supply ship that she had liberated...half a dozen or so fresh colonists had gone along with it, she knew. Were any of them lying here? Had she helped condemn these people to death? _I did it for Sid,_ she told herself. _I did it to survive._

Something clunked behind her, and she whirled about. Ryder paused, straddling the window, and smiled sheepishly.

“Thought I saw you come in here.” She swung herself inside and walked over. “We might have found a way to get the power back - oh.”

Her hand went to her mouth as she took in the sight.

“How awful,” she said quietly. “What a terrible way to go.”

Vetra couldn't look anymore. Not at the bodies, not at Ryder. She fled back to the window and practically hurled herself through. Outside, the fresh air had never tasted better, and she bent over on the dusty ground, sucking in huge breaths.

“Vetra?” Ryder called from behind her. She heard the thump of the Pathfinder’s boots on the ground, the crunch of her footsteps, and then, the tentative touch of a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, straightening. Ryder’s hand didn't leave her shoulder. Vetra turned to her, expecting to see a mirror of the horror and misery she felt inside. But Ryder’s brown forehead was furrowed in grim determination, her lips a thin line.

“We won't let this happen again, okay?” she said in a voice that was pure steel. “Not on Eos or anywhere else.” She let go of Vetra’s shoulder and marched off to where Liam and Cora were waiting in the shadow of a nearby building.

Vetra exhaled with a shaky rush of air. She’d just seen a glimmer of the leader that Ryder could become, she realised, hurrying to meet up with the group. Maybe there was hope for the Pathfinder after all. Maybe they could all have hope.

 

*****

 

Vetra was really starting to hate the Nomad. That, and Ryder’s driving. Months ago, when she'd pictured finally leaving the Nexus to explore new worlds, she hadn't thought she'd have to do it while being thrown about inside a cramped, mobile oven.

It had been a strange day, between the hordes of alien soldiers, the inscrutable monoliths and killer robots. They'd even run into Drack, of all people, on a one-krogan crusade to rid the planet of Kett. An hour ago they'd activated the final monolith and watched its laser arc across the sky, and now they were charging after it, hunting down the final piece of the puzzle.

“Ryder!” Cora snapped. “Maybe try going _around_ the rocks, instead of _over_ them?”

Eyes fixed on the road ahead, Ryder grunted through gritted teeth, “Sorry!”

“Not half sorry enough,” Cora muttered. “Still don’t see why you _have_ to drive.”

It was no secret on the ship that the XO was still bitter about the Pathfinder succession. What was also becoming painfully evident was that Cora’s resentment was fuelling Ryder’s insecurities. Every interaction between the two had become a test of Ryder’s worth, if not an outright power struggle. It didn’t help that combat-wise, they had similar specialties. Cora of course was far more experienced, but with the help of the computer in her head, Ryder was making gains, battle by battle. And Cora noticed, and ramped up her stunts accordingly, so that every fight with the Kett became a proxy war between the two women. Who got the most kills. Who made the most death-defying charge. Who could send an enemy flying the furthest. For Ryder, it was obviously draining her unfledged energy reserves For Vetra, it was like being third wheel on a bike strapped with nitro.

The Nomad ramped off the edge of a steep hillock and plunged down the other side, bucking and bumping the whole way.

“Maybe...aagh! Maybe if you’d let me - argh! - drive for a while…” yelled Cora, gripping her harness with whitened knuckles. They slammed back onto level ground, and Cora let out a string of asari invective, of which Vetra’s translator fortunately couldn’t parse much.

Salvation arrived in the near distance in the form of a squat, black structure, not quite like any of the Remnant structures they'd already seen. Nearby, a small blue and purple figure bounced up and down, waving furiously. That asari. Peewee? Something like that. She rubbed Vetra the wrong way.

As they approached the body of water separating them from the structure, a black bridge rippled into existence right under their wheels.

“This Remnant technology gets weirder and weirder,” Vetra said. “I don’t trust it.”

“Me neither,” said Cora. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Ryder on the other hand was so transfixed by the bridge that she almost steered right off it.

“Ryder! For Goddess’ sake!” Cora screeched as Ryder yanked the wheel back. She stuttered an apology, driving the rest of the way with utmost care.

 **Radiation is at acceptable levels** , SAM announced as they piled out of the Nomad.

“Oh, thank God,” said Cora, pulling off her helmet and chucking it back into the empty vehicle. Ryder frowned.

“Don't you think you might need that in there?” she asked hesitantly. “It's probably crawling with Remnant.”

Cora dragged an arm across her forehead, wicking away hours worth of sweat.

“I’m not wearing that blasted thing if I don't have to,” she said. “Asari huntresses don’t need helmets. They get in the way of your focus.”

With that, she set off towards where the archaeologist waited. Ryder watched her for a moment, clearly struggling internally.

“You know,” said Vetra, “this competition to be the biggest baddest biotic that you and Cora have going? It's getting kind of excessive.”

“It's not a competition,” said Ryder. But she still took off her helmet. Vetra sighed and trailed after her, thanking her stars that the only expectations she had to live up to were her own.

“Hey Peebee,” said Ryder. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Got here as quick as we could.”

“A little too quick,” Cora muttered. Peebee waved away the apology.

“Please, Ryder!” she trilled. “I’d still be hunkered in the dirt trying to figure those monoliths out if not for you.” She grabbed Ryder by the elbow, steering her towards the mouth of the structure. “Now, are you ready to nerd out over some underground ruins or what?” she asked. Ryder laughed. _Laughed_. Vetra had never heard the Pathfinder so much as chuckle under her breath.

“Sure am. You?”

“Ohhh, you know it!” Peebee said triumphantly, squeezing Ryder’s arm.

Behind them, Vetra fumed. Cora watched her curiously.

“Everything okay?” she whispered.

Vetra’s jaw twitched in irritation. “She’s too familiar with the Pathfinder,” she whispered back. “Doesn’t she know who she is? Doesn’t she have any respect for hierarchy?”

Cora snickered. “You can take the turian out of Palaven, but you can’t take Palaven out of the turian, huh? Don’t worry. Ryder seems to like it.”

 _Her liking it is a problem too_ , Vetra screamed internally. She was a _Pathfinder_. She shouldn’t be so comfortable with some scrub asari _stranger_ snuggling up to her in public. It wasn’t...proper.

Vetra swallowed back her outrage as the vault door opened. Maybe it _was_ just a cultural thing.

 

*****

 

The Remnant structure was massive, utterly alien, full of pools of electrified liquid and teeming with homicidal robots. And fortunately, plenty of good loot. Vetra cheerfully pocketed a mess of components she’d pulled from a smouldering Observer. Should make fine bartering material.

“Hey, Ryder,” said Cora, “You pushed yourself pretty hard back there. Careful you don’t overdo it. Biotic fatigue’s not pretty”

“I’m fine,” said Ryder, striding off down a glittering corridor. She looked a little peaky, Vetra thought. But she knew the Pathfinder well enough by now to know that she’d die before admitting it in front of Cora. She sighed. At least that dreadful asari had taken another route.

They entered yet another cavernous chamber, essentially one vast and bottomless pit, studded here and there with platforms.

“Spirits,” said Vetra, “What the heck is any of this _for_?”

“Isn’t it fascinating?” said Ryder. “This is so different from anything in the Milky Way, even Prothean tech.” She boosted up onto the next ledge. “Holy...is that a _tree_?”

Cora and Vetra followed to find Ryder already scanning a huge, glowing plant, chattering with Peebee over the comms about underground photosynthesis. Vetra wondered at her. Just in the hours since leaving the _Tempest_ , Ryder really had come out of her shell. In another timeline, one where Alec Ryder had survived and Sara hadn’t been forced to try to fill his boots, perhaps she could have spent a happy lifetime tooling about Remnant ruins, blasting baddies and geeking out with sexy blue archaeologists.

The last part rankled Vetra, and she shut down that train of thought just in time to hear a horrible metallic chittering in the distance.

“We’ve got incoming Remnant!” she cried. On the other side of the gaping chasm ahead, a pair of assemblers stomped out from behind a corner, flanked by laser-sighted observers. The three women dashed to cover as the synthetics opened fire.

“These things don’t let up, do they?” Ryder yelled through the thunder of superheated beams pinging off their cover. She popped up long enough to overload one observer’s shields. As it faltered, Vetra ended it with a concussive blast.

“Nice!” shouted Ryder, eyes bright with excitement. Another robot leapt over its fallen comrade’s carcass, guns blazing plasma, forcing Ryder and Vetra back down.

“They’ve got the high ground, and we’ve got nowhere to manoeuvre!” Vetra yelled. The nearest platform was almost a hundred feet off and swarming with Remnant.

Ryder pointed out a console not far away.

“If you guys cover me, I should be able to raise a bridge with that...Cora? What are you doing?”

Cora was bracing for a jump, a biotic haze licking about her body.

“Watch and learn, Ryder.”

Cora blasted off, charging over the crevasse and ploughing into a robot. It keeled over, screeching. Before the others could react, Cora slammed a fist against the floor, releasing a blast of energy that toppled two more. An observer swooped in, laser blazing. Cora boosted away, shotgun at the ready. Three shots, and the observer exploded as it hit the ground.

Ryder gaped, flabbergasted.

“That...that showoff!” she spluttered. “Vetra!”

“I’ve got you!” Vetra yelled, plugging away at the Remnant hordes. Ryder bolted for the console, and sure enough, a new set of pillars rose up out of the depths.

Vetra whooped. “Good going, Ry-”

A flash, and the Pathfinder cannoned after Cora, fists raised.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll just catch up,” Vetra grunted, activating her suit.

She leapt from pillar to pillar, blasting at robots as she went. Ahead, Cora and Ryder were streaks of light, zipping around in a fireworks display of blue and purple and green. Vetra pulled herself up the final ledge in time to see Ryder throw up a barrier as she was pelted with shots from left and right. The barrier quivered under the onslaught, barely holding. Ryder was flagging, sinking to her knees. A Remnant punched through the barrier and swept at Ryder with a sharp claw, inches from her unprotected head. 

Vetra pelted across the platform towards her, heart in her mouth, shields evaporating as she vented them through her rifle.

“Get away from her!” she screamed. Under her blitz of high-powered fire, the Remnant shrieked and fell one by one. Vetra reached the stricken Pathfinder and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Ryder!”

A sheen of sweat coated Ryder’s drained face, but she still tried feebly to shake Vetra off.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, Ryder!” Vetra snapped, just as another assembler lurched out from behind a pillar.

A single gunshot boomed across the cavern, and the robot shrieked and collapsed in a shower of sparks. Cora stepped nimbly over the smoking remains, grinning from ear to ear.

“That's the last of them. Pretty inten-” Her eyes widened. “Jesus, Ryder!”

“I’m fine, really,” said Ryder, struggling to stand, swaying on her feet. Vetra steadied her with a gentle hand.

**I would advise against further use of your biotics until you have had time to recover, Pathfinder.**

“ _Thank you_ , SAM,” Ryder huffed. Cora shook her head.

“Warned you about overdoing it. If there’s any more fighting to be done, leave it to us, okay? We don’t want you to burn out completely.”

Vetra bristled with a sudden anger. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you goaded her into trying to keep up with you,” she growled.

Cora’s face was a studied blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vetra.”

“Really, Cora?” Vetra’s other hand tightened on the grip of her rifle. “You’ve been hounding her to match up to your ridiculous standards ever since we set foot on this cursed planet. This is as much your fault as Ryder’s!”

“Don’t make this about me,” Cora snapped. “You have a problem with high standards?”

“Stop!” said Ryder. “Let’s...let’s just finish here, okay? The end can’t be far now.”

Cora rolled her eyes and huffed, digging around in the pack at her side. She pulled out an energy bar and handed it to Ryder.

“I was saving this for an emergency. It’ll keep you going a little while. Let’s just hope that was the last bit of trouble we’ll have down here.”

 

*****

 

Needless to say, it wasn’t.

 _Of_ **_course_ ** _the place is booby-trapped_ , thought Vetra, as the team bolted for the entrance, a giant cloud of deadly gas hot on their heels. _This is the worst planet in the_ **_universe_ ** _._

Around them, machines were spilling out of every crevice like a plague of vengeful insects. Vetra took a few potshots at one that came too close to the still-weakened Ryder.

“Don’t bother!” Cora yelled over her shoulder, “Just run!”

They did, sprinting and leaping across ledges, dodging shots left and right. The gas was coming at them from two sides now, their escape route rapidly narrowing.

 _It’s killing everything it touches!_ shrieked Peebee over the comms, just as they reached a gravity well.

“We don’t know where it goes,” said Cora, gasping for breath.

“It goes somewhere that’s not here,” Ryder replied through clenched teeth, already interfacing. As the cloud swept into the room, spitting fire and ash, Vetra felt a welcome tug at her gut. They shot upwards into the clear air of the tunnel.

“That was close,” said Vetra, as the tunnel’s mouth shrank below them. Ryder was looking sick to the stomach with overexertion, and Vetra wasn’t sure she could have lasted much longer.

They reached the end, dropping to the floor of of a familiar passageway as the tunnel closed under their feet.

“Alright,” said Cora, “Let’s get out of  - shit!”

The cloud was right on top of them, a roiling, sulphurous wall of death.

The team stampeded towards the exit. Two more corridors, and they’d be out. They were so close...There! The entrance, shut, a console in front of it their key to escape.

Peebee materialised, skidding around a corner, a group of Remnant on her tail. She surged past Vetra, eyes wild. Vetra had only seconds to be impressed at the asari’s speed before her back erupted in agony. She crashed to the ground with a yelp. Her shields!

The observer’s laser fired again, narrowly missing her head as she rolled. Instinctively Vetra fired back, her shot hitting home. The remnant twitched and fell, careening towards her. It smashed into her chest, tentacles twisting and sparking in her face. Vetra cried out, struggling to push it off as the first tendrils of lethal gas crested above her. The cloud swallowed her foot, then her shin, burning like acid. She screamed and twisted helplessly as she was engulfed, punching at the writhing observer.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder turn and notice her, saw the horrified realisation dawn on her face, saw her body glow purple and her shoulders tense.

Vetra flinched as the air detonated around her. The observer shattered with an ear-piercing howl, and Vetra felt firm hands grasp under her armpits.

“Hold on!” Ryder yelled as the cloud rolled over them. Vetra’s breath left her as the Pathfinder charged again. A rush of wind and a blur of purple, and then she was rolling over cold stone, gasping.

Barely able to kneel, Ryder lifted a trembling hand to the console.

With a dull whoosh, the gas retreated, and Ryder sank to the floor. Cora reached her first, cushioning her head, checking for a pulse. Her eyes bulged in fear.

“Ryder? _Ryder!_ ”

**Atmosphere processor is online. Recovering last console activity.**

Vetra grunted and got to her feet, waving away Peebee’s help. “Save it for later, SAM,” she groaned. She limped towards the two humans.

**I have stabilised the Pathfinder’s vitals, but it is imperative that she receive medical treatment immediately. The _Tempest_ is on the way.**

“She’s alive,” Cora wept, scrubbing tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I thought I’d -”

“You save it too,” Vetra snapped. As gently as she could, she slipped her arms under Ryder’s shoulders and legs and scooped her up. Her injured back screamed in protest. For someone so small, Ryder was surprisingly heavy. _Must be the hardsuit_ , Vetra thought, setting her jaw and doing her best to ignore the pain. She limped to the door, Ryder’s damp, waxen face knocking against her breastplate, Cora and Peebee at her side, worried eyes on the Pathfinder. The door ground open as they approached, letting golden sunlight spill in.

“Sunlight?” said Peebee, “Then…”

They emerged into a changed world. A cloudless blue sky stretched to the newly-visible horizon. The storms were gone, and with them, the worst of the radiation. Peebee twirled in circles to take it all in, laughing in delight, while Cora simply stared, face slack with amazement.

“It finally looks like somewhere that might become a home one day,” she whispered. Vetra knelt to rest Ryder on the ground, cradling her by the shoulders and marvelling at the view.

“Hnh...Vetra?”

She looked down. Ryder’s eyes were cracked open, bloodshot and unfocused.

“Hey,” said Vetra, soft but urgent, “How are you feeling?”

“...Horrible.” Ryder’s head lolled as she tried to look about. “The sky…”

“You did it,” Vetra soothed. “You fixed the planet.”

“We fixed it.” A dopey smile settled onto Ryder’s face. “Saved the world, huh? Not bad for a first day on the job.”

The incoming _Tempest_ was a glittering speck against the deep blue. Vetra barely noticed it, every bit of her senses locked on to Ryder’s face, her voice, her smile.

“Not bad at all,” she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try my best to stick to my posting schedule, but I'm moving this weekend and so the next chapter might be delayed somewhat. Thanks to all the readers and commenters so far. You guys are the best!


	4. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late! But a little longer than normal. All moved and settled, so hopefully this'll be back on schedule from now on.

“You’re all clear,” said Dr. T’Perro, giving Vetra’s scans one final lookover. “You’re lucky you didn't breathe any of it in. Next time you go into one of those vaults, wear a helmet. Doctor’s orders.”

Vetra snorted as she swivelled herself off the bed.

“Believe me, Doc, I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

Dr. T’Perro frowned. “I'm worried about all of you. What happened down there can't happen again. Ryder’s more up to the task than she thinks she is, but if she keeps pushing herself and taking unnecessary risks…” She looked away, mouth twisted in agitation. “I need you and everyone else to look out for her. Don’t let her take on any more than she needs to.” She looked Vetra pleadingly. “Will you?”

Taken slightly aback at T’Perro’s intensity, Vetra nodded. “I will, Doc. Trust me.”

The doctor smiled in relief. “Thank you, Vetra,” she replied. She shifted her attention back to her monitor. “Oh. Before I forget, Ryder asked me to ask you to go see her, when you have time.”

 

*****

 

Ryder was sitting cross legged on her sofa, surrounded by stars. She smiled at Vetra as the turian eyed the hologram curiously.

“Cool, huh? It's what SAM recovered from the vault. A map of Heleus.”

Outside the windows, a moonless night had fallen over the desert, darker than the depths of space. The only light in the cabin came from the the spinning display of the holo-projector on Ryder’s coffee table. Vetra stepped inside the projector’s field, inspecting the tiny, shimmering star systems as they flowed past.

“These ones…”

“Are the golden worlds,” Ryder confirmed. “Peebee thinks there must be vaults on all of them. It's incredible. What we did here, we can do on every planet.” Her eyes were shining. “We can save the Initiative, the Exiles, everyone.” She patted the empty space on the sofa next to her, and Vetra gingerly accepted the seat. For a minute or so the two simply watched the stars scud by.

“I have to apologise to you again,” said Ryder. “I’ve been really stupid and reckless. You tried to talk sense into me and I didn’t listen.”

Vetra sank back into the cushion. “Stupid is a strong word,” she replied. “There’s a lot of pressure on you, and you’re still learning to deal with it. Just don’t let idiots like Cora get to you.”

“She has a right to be sceptical,” Ryder said quietly. “I’ve done nothing to earn this position.”

In the half-darkness, hemmed in by Heleus’ whirling simulacrum, Ryder was small and sad and lost. It tore at Vetra’s heart. She wanted to reach out, with her hands, her words, anything.

“Back in the vault,” Vetra started. She hesitated. Ryder waited patiently, a star skidding across her nose. Vetra took a deep breath.

“You could have been really badly hurt. Or worse. But you saved me.”

Ryder’s eyebrows contracted quizzically. “Yeah. I did.”

“You barely know me.”

The corners of Ryder’s mouth crinkled in bemusement. “I’d like to.”

“That's not what I-” Vetra sighed and shook her head, mandibles twitching. Ryder scrubbed the back of her neck with a palm, grinning awkwardly.

“You're making me feel like I should be apologising.”

“No!” Vetra’s eyes widened. “It's just…” She sagged. “My whole life, almost everyone I’ve ever met has only been out for themselves. And me, well, I guess ultimately everything I do is for Sid.” She twiddled her fingers anxiously. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, people like you are rare. It doesn’t matter if you’re not a Spectre-level badass. Yet,” she added hastily. “You put strangers before yourself, completely unthinkingly and without asking for anything in return. As far as I’m concerned, that puts you among the best the galaxy has to offer.”

Whether because of the dark, or a subtlety of human body language that Vetra hadn’t figured out yet, Ryder’s expression was unreadable. Had she said too much? Was she overstepping some line? Vetra stood, full of chagrin at her own words.

“I’ll let you rest,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Sure,” said Ryder, blinking rapidly.

Vetra made her escape with as cool and casual a bearing as she could muster, only letting out the breath she had been holding in when the door slid shut behind her. She leaned against it, feeling her pulse slow.

“Mind if I get past?”

It was Cora, standing stiffly in front of her, holding two steaming cups of some human drink, looking vaguely embarrassed. Vetra looked from Cora, to the cups and back again. The XO glared back, a pinkish tinge appearing on her cheeks.

“I’m going in there to apologise, if you must know,” she said.

Vetra shrugged, pushing herself off the door. “Don’t let me get in your way.”

She stalked off back to the armoury, chest still tickling in that way that it always did after an encounter with Ryder. This infatuation, she decided, needed snuffing out before it became a problem. She had more than enough to deal with, without adding to the mix a heart that refused to learn from its unhappy past. _Focus on your mission, and on protecting Sid. Just like you’ve always done. Just like you always will._

 

*****

 

A week later, in a valley not far from the vault, the Initiative’s first real colony was taking shape among the sands. Eager colonists were flooding in, bringing with them plenty of trading opportunities. For a few days, Vetra was back to her old habits, wheeling and dealing, turning a tidy profit on what she’d scavenged from the Remnant. It was good doing business face to face again, she reflected, as she walked across Prodromos, hefting a box full of the spoils of the day. The tools Gil had been asking for, some lab kits for Suvi, and a drive full of B-movies for Liam. She was going to be the most popular woman on the Tempest tonight.

She hadn’t seen much of Ryder since their talk. The Pathfinder had bounced back from her injury like a rubber ball against concrete, and was back in the field. Cora had eased off, as promised, and Ryder was no longer abusing her biotics, but she was as intent on being a paragon of heroism as ever. Vetra would see her in the distance sometimes, earnestly listening to the woes of some colonist, before taking off into the desert to do whatever it was they needed, no matter how mundane. Vetra considered herself as helpful as anyone, but Ryder’s obsession was bordering on the pathological.

Drack fell into step with Vetra as she crossed the bridge, a scowl carved deep into his ancient face.

“We leaving any time soon?” he asked. “I was promised some good fights, and instead I’ve been sitting on my ass for three days.”

Vetra brightened, as she always did when the old krogan was around. Now that he was on the team, the _Tempest_ might really start to feel like a home. She nodded. “Soon as Ryder and the others get back from whatever they’re up to.”

Drack snorted. “She took Cora and Liam to climb a mountain with her. To scan a plant for some scientist on the Nexus. A _plant_.” He shook his huge head. “I’d have told all these spineless loafers to suck my quad and do their own legwork. We got better things to do.”

“Speaking of…” said Vetra, veering off the path to a quiet spot by the lake where they wouldn’t be overheard, “I need to ask you some things before we get back to the ship. Don’t need SAM spying on us.”

Drack’s fleshy lip curled. “That AI? Don’t trust it. D’you know Ryder wanted to put it in my head too? Humans are insane.”

“Oh, they tried to get me too,” said Vetra. “Anyway. In your travels. Did you ever hear anything about, y’know…” Her brows lifted meaningfully.

“Anything about your Talon friend from the Milky Way?” Drack rumbled. “Still set on tracking him down, huh?"

Vetra shifted, looking away to where the late afternoon sun glittered on the surface of the reservoir.

“He’s threatening my sister’s life for the _second_ time,” she replied. “I’m not waiting around for him to make the first move.”

Drack grunted his approval. “I’d do the same for Kesh,” he said. “Heard your man’d passed through Kadara Port, last time I was there. Got into trouble with Sloane.”

Vetra wasn’t surprised. “What kind of trouble?”

“Muscling in on her trade, raiding storehouses, that kinda thing. Got run out of the port pretty quick. Some of the angarans told me they’d had dealings with him before he got kicked out.”

“Angarans?”

Drack blinked. “You ain’t met the natives yet? Weird-looking sons of bitches. Not bad fighters though. They’ve been resisting the Kett for decades.”

Natives? They’d heard rumours from the exiles of another species besides the Kett. A pity that scum like Caulus had been the ones to make first contact. Vetra hoped these ‘angara’ weren’t the type to hold on to first impressions. She readjusted her grip on the box and started out for the Tempest once more.

“Any word on where he went?”

“Nah,” said Drack. “Never met the ones who dealt with him. They might know.”

They were closing in on the Tempest. The loading ramp was down, and Suvi was squatting in the dirt at its foot. What was she doing with that rock?

“So, we get to Kadara, talk to these new friends of yours, then we track him down and kill him.”

“Not sure it’ll be that easy. The ones who actually met him went back to fight the kett on the angaran homeworld. Have to go there first if we want to know where the Black Fangs are hiding out.”

Suvi lifted the rock to her mouth and gave it a long, deliberate lick. Humans were so _weird_.

“Alright,” said Vetra. “What’s the homeworld call- oh, Spirits.”

Suvi was writhing on the ground, clutching her throat and gargling horribly. Vetra shoved the box at Drack, who accepted it with a grunt of surprise, and hurried over to the fallen scientist.

 

Humans. One of them was going to be the death of her.

 

*****

 

Havarl. The planet’s name was Havarl, and it was different from Eos in every way possible but one: everthing on it was still trying its best to kill them.

Vetra battered away a thrashing, spiky creature with the butt of her rifle, but another leaped up in its place, latching onto her forearm with several hideous, clawing legs. She cursed and slapped madly at the hissing thing, dimly aware of Ryder yelling her name.

“Don’t struggle!” yelled Jaal, bounding over to her side. “That only agitates them more!” He drew a knife from his belt and shanked the creature in the side. It jerked in silent agony before dropping off and slithering back into the undergrowth.

“Vetra, are you alright?” asked Ryder, pistol trained on the bushes where the beast had disappeared. Vetra rubbed her arm and stepped back towards the group.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I’ll be sticking to the path from now on, I think.”

“Were those...giant spiders?” said Liam, wide-eyed, omniblades drawn and glowing on his arms. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“There is no joke,” Jaal replied sternly. “The creatures on this world are a very serious matter. You must always be on the alert.”

“Great,” said Cora, nose wrinkling as she reholstered her pistol. “Please tell me we’re close to this base of yours.”

Havarl was beautiful and bizarre, bathed in a soft purple twilight that ebbed and shifted as the planet spun tide-locked around the pink gas giant dominating the horizon. Deep, foreboding shadows lurked under every surface, only mildly diminished by the bioluminescence emanating from every tree and bush. The plants moved as if conscious, shifting in the windless air, growing, mutating, even dying before an onlooker’s eyes. It would be a lovely place for a holiday, Vetra thought, if not for the fauna.

The team was making their way from the Tempest’s landing site to where their new angaran companion had promised a research station was hidden. Vetra fancied herself a good judge of character, with a few painful exceptions, and Jaal seemed a good sort, but she was still half expecting to be led into an ambush. Combined with the relentless animal attacks, she and everyone else was on edge.

To the team’s relief, the first signs of sentient life soon showed through the foliage.

The station was nestled in the ruins of Havarl’s greatest city, a small patchwork of huts reclaimed from the jungle. A few angara stood guard, waving them through when they saw Jaal. Once inside, Ryder and Jaal went to find whoever was in charge, momentarily leaving the team to their own devices. Drack took Vetra by the shoulder and guided her away from the others.

“Those friends in the resistance I was telling you about,” he said when they were out of hearing range, “ I’ve been emailing them since we set course from Aya. The group who met Caulus are camped out not too far from here.”

“Can you take me there?” Vetra whispered.

“Sure,” he replied, copying the navpoint to her omnitool, “Should be a couple hours round trip on foot.”

Vetra was still inspecting the map when Ryder emerged from a nearby doorway, Jaal trailing behind her, that determined quickness in her step that only ever meant one thing: mission time.

“Okay,” she announced, “Time to head out. We’ve got some sages to track down. Vetra, I’d like you with me.”

Vetra stiffened, racking her brain for an excuse.

“Uh…” she stumbled. Why did Ryder always have to look at her with that trusting, open smile? It made lying to her almost impossible. What helped even less was that Vetra really had missed adventuring with her.

Ryder cocked her head in amusement.

“Is this about my driving?” she asked. “Don’t worry, the jungle’s too thick for the Nomad. We’ll be on foot all the way.”

“It’s not that!” Vetra insisted, “I was just thinking. Lots of potential new trade partners in this place, right? Never know what they might have that we could use. And Drack,” she thumbed over at him, “says he might have some connections he can leverage. We should get on it.”

Ryder considered this.

“Good idea,” she decided. “I’ll get Peebee instead. Good luck!” She turned and boosted up to a balcony where the asari was enjoying the view. Vetra watched Peebee heartily agreeing to join the party. A pang of jealousy gripped her as the asari threw an arm around Ryder’s neck and gestured enthusiastically at the colossal Remnant tower in the distance. Where did she get the guts to be so forward? _Would Ryder be smiling like that if it was my arm?_

“Vetra!” Drack urged. “We should move out. Time’s wasting.”

“Sure thing,” said Vetra, tearing her eyes away from the Pathfinder. Jealousy was pointless, she reminded herself. Nothing was going to happen between them, Peebee or no Peebee. What mattered was that Ryder was happy, and Vetra could focus on keeping her sister safe.

 

*****

 

“Would it really be so bad to tell Ryder about all this?” asked Drack, ripping a handful of valuable scales from the carcass of one of the Wraiths they’d just fought off. “Would save us a lot of trouble.”

Vetra rolled over another dead Wraith with her foot. It splashed into the river and floated away. She stopped short of butchering animals for trade. It was just too... _messy_.

“What, and out myself as just another lowlife from the Terminus Systems, who lied and schemed my way onto her ship so I could clean up the fallout from a failed drug deal?” she replied, “I’d be off the _Tempest_ in a heartbeat.”

Satisfied with his haul, Drack started off along the riverbank again. “Ryder’ll have to get her hands dirty eventually if she wants to get anything done in this cluster,” he said. “And when she does, a couple of seedy allies like ourselves are gonna be her biggest asset.”

Vetra scoffed. “Have you _met_ Ryder?” she asked. “She’s the poster child for noble do-gooding. Trust me, Drack. The fewer people who know about this, the better. I haven’t even told Sid that Caulus is here, let alone that he’s threatening to kill her.”

They climbed hand over foot up the steep bank to where a narrow path led deeper into the undergrowth. The pair crept forward, weapons ready, scanning for Wraiths, Kett, or whatever else lurked behind the glimmering plants.

“I was where you are now, once,” said Drack, eyes never leaving their surroundings, “I thought if the people I cared about knew who Nakmor Drack really was, they’d shun me, or else they’d be tainted somehow, or that it would put them in danger. But now look. Kesh and I have the bond we do _because_ I was honest with her about my past.”

“People I care about, huh? Hope you’re only talking about Sid now.”

Drack looked back at her, a disapproving set to his jaw. “Denial doesn’t suit you, Vetra.”

A haunting, unearthly croon filled the air, and the two looked up to see another herd of those strange buglike behemoths swooping lazily through the sky.

“Think we can catch one of those to ride back?” joked Vetra, eager to change the subject. Drack squinted up at them, unimpressed.

“I get motion sickness,” he grunted, before powering up his omnitool to check the map. “The camp should be somewhere a little further on.”

There was the tiniest sound. A twig, snapping softly underfoot.

Vetra whirled about, slamming her back against Drack’s, rifle at the ready. A dozen angara melted out of the trees, weapons all trained on the pair.

“ _Vesagara_!” thundered a particularly angry-looking male, “You are not welcome here!”

“I got an invitation,” drawled Drack. “Been sent by Vela de Quofraa to speak with Dasvari.”

The angara swapped disbelieving looks with each other.

“Why would Vela send aliens to our camp?” snapped a female. “You come with weapons drawn!”

“Only because everything on your planet wants to murder us,” Vetra said. “We just need to speak to Dasvari. Then we’ll leave.” She took her finger from the trigger, raised both hands, then slowly lowered her rifle to the ground. She stood just as slowly, hoping Drack would follow her lead. When he didn’t move, she elbowed him sharply in the side.

“Urgh, fine!” he said, letting his beloved shotgun tumble to the ground. He kicked it towards the male. “I’d better get that back in one piece.”

The angara scooped up the guns and, at the female’s prompting, two of them jabbed the barrels of their rifles against Drack and Vetra’s backs.

They continued along the path in silence for several minutes, eventually emerging into a clearing. Here was the camp, smaller than the last, similarly built into overgrown ruins. In its prime, the city of Pelaav must have been vast, if it reached all the way out here.

Vetra and Drack were herded into a small hut, sparsely furnished with a few chairs and some dead computers.

“Wait here,” said their guard. “If you try to leave, I will shoot you myself.” The door closed behind him, leaving the captives in the dark.

“Friendly bunch,” said Vetra, flopping onto a chair.

Drack snorted. “You know things are gonna go badly when you hear someone say _vesagara_.”

Vetra stared up at the ceiling. “If things go south, no-one even knows we’re here.”

“Hate to say I told you so,” said Drack, clearly not hating it at all, “but you really shoulda told Ryder.”

The door opened again, and in walked another angaran female, weaponless, but carrying herself in a way that made it clear that she didn’t need more than her hands to ruin someone’s day. Her fleshy neck-lobes were heavily scarred. She stalked across the room, large grey eyes flicking between Drack and Vetra, and slouched into a chair.

“Vela makes interesting friends,” she purred, in a voice that was as thick and smooth as honey. “Your kind I have met,” she said, pointing at Vetra. “ _Turians_. You look like Kett, but you are less cunning.”

“We do _not_ look like Kett,” said Vetra, bristling.

“You sorta do,” said Drack. “All the bony plates. I see it.”

While Vetra spluttered, Drack turned to the angara. “I’m Drack. She’s Vetra. You Dasvari?”

“I am,” she said. “You must be _kro-gann._ I have heard of your people. You are mighty warriors.”

“We are,” said Drack proudly. “Glad our reputation continues to precede us.”

“We’ve come about a turian named Caulus,” Vetra interjected, deciding she’d had enough. “You had some business with him, didn’t you?”

Dasvari’s huge eyes narrowed. “Caulus. Yes, we encountered him on Kadara. He travelled to our settlement with his Black Talons and offered us a deal.”

Vetra leaned forward, hands clenched in anticipation. “What kind of deal?”

“He offered us great power, in exchange for acknowledging him as our leader.”

“Great power?” said Drack. “What kind of power?”

“The power that some of you aliens bear,” Dasvari replied, “The power to control matter using only your mind.”

“Biotics,” Vetra breathed. “But how could he give you…Spirits. _Fuck_.”

Things were rapidly slotting into place to form an awful picture. The mysterious cargo that Caulus had defended so brutally. How he’d managed to pull together a horde of loyal soldiers so quickly. The talk of him pushing drugs in the Kadara marketplace.

“He had some of his soldiers demonstrate,” Dasvari continued. “It was very impressive. He told us: take this power, fight for me, and together we can crush the Kett. We can reclaim Kadara from the _vesagara_ invaders. It was...tempting.”

Vetra stood up and began to pace the room. Things were beginning to spin wildly out of hand.

“You didn’t take him up on it, though,” said Drack. Dasvari sneered.

“We’d heard all those promises before, and more,” she replied. “Even the Kett did not demand our servitude right from the start. I told Caulus to leave and take his party tricks with him.”

Vetra spun on one agitated heel to face Dasvari. “So you don’t know where he is?”

Dasvari fished in a pocket, pulling out a small datapad and tossing it to Vetra.

“He left this with us, with the location of his base on Kadara. Some of our fighters were weak-minded enough to be seduced away, and left for the base in the night. We do not know what happened to them there.”

Vetra turned on the datapad. It showed a map. There was Kadara Port, a few other landmarks, what must have been Dasvari’s old camp, and far, far to the edge of the map, sixty miles or more from the port, a symbol of a curved black triangle. A black fang.

“Thank you for this,” Vetra said. “I’m glad you didn’t join up with Caulus. He’d have screwed you over, or worse.”

“Is this the part where you tell me that not all your kind are like him?” Dasvari scoffed. “I have yet to meet a single alien who didn’t try to ‘screw us over’ eventually.”

“Oh, a lot of us are pretty good at screwing folks over,” said Drack. “Krogans have been taking the brunt of it for centuries.”

Dasvari softened slightly. “If that is so, then angara and _kro-gann_ have more in common than I thought. I had a feeling yours would be my favourite new race.”

Vetra shoved the datapad into a pouch. “Thanks for your help, Dasvari, but we’ve got to make tracks,” she said. “If this is half as bad as it looks, we could all have trouble on the horizon.”

Dasvari inclined her head in acquiescence, then rose gracefully from her chair and headed for the door. She spoke rapidly to the guard before beckoning Vetra and Drack outside.

“Your weapons will be returned to you,” she said. “I wish you good luck in your mission. If you find any trace of my fighters, please tell Vela. She will get word to me.”

Guns back in their possession, Vetra and Drack left the outpost behind and made their way back to the river. For a long time, neither spoke. Drack watched for enemies, while Vetra stared glumly at her feet.

“He’s got red sand.” she said at last. “He’s got red sand, and he’s giving it to angara. This is going to end really badly, isn’t it?”

“What’ll it even do to them?” Drack asked. “They’ve got that bioelectric thing going on. Would it even work right?”

“Best case scenario is, there’s no effect. I’m trying to rank the worst cases, but every option is horrific. We have to stop him.”

Drack patted her between the shoulders with surprising delicacy. “Well, we haven’t heard anything about biotic angara ravaging Kadara Port yet, so maybe it isn’t working.”

“So maybe we have a bunch of dead or traumatized angara instead,” Vetra grumbled. “Either way, it’s trouble for the Initiative.” She sighed. ”Let’s just get back before we’re missed.”

 

*****

 

What passed for dawn on this side of Havarl was spreading over the research station. Faroang’s distant sun peeked over the rim of the gas giant, coating the sky with a film of dusky pink. The jungle shimmered and trembled in the still air. Vetra stood alone on a balcony in brooding contemplation of the scene, sucking absent-mindedly at a tube of tasteless nutrient paste. She’d left most of her good dextro food with Sid, a sacrifice she was now mildly regretting.

The away team had checked in half an hour ago to report the job done, just in case the beam shooting out of the nearby vault wasn’t enough to signal that the atmospheric processor was back online. Any minute now, Ryder would be back, ready to depart Havarl, and Kadara would be one step closer.

Vetra was racking her brains for a plan. Caulus had to be stopped, but how? Alone, she was no match for him, his gang and possibly a legion of drug-crazed, biotic angara. Perhaps with the contacts she’d amassed, she could put together a small army of mercenaries to storm his base, without Ryder or anyone on the Nexus finding out. Drack could reach out to the krogans, or his angaran friends...there had to be a way to end this quickly and quietly.

“Vetra? There you are.”

Ryder stood in the doorway behind her, bathed in rosy light, eyes bright and face still flushed with the excitement of her success, radiating a gentle, warm-hearted heroism. Once again, Vetra found herself mesmerised by the young Pathfinder, at the way Ryder always looked at her like Vetra was someone worthy and special. Did she make everyone feel like this? She’d come so far since that day on the Nexus landing pad. Was it weird that Vetra wanted to tell her that?

“Good job with the vault,” was what Vetra actually said. “You’re getting good at this.”

Ryder smiled and stepped closer, leaning on the railing alongside Vetra to better appreciate the view.

“Maybe now the angara will trust us,” she said.

Not if Caulus has his way, Vetra thought, cringing inwardly with sudden guilt. Drack’s advice came back to her as she studied Ryder’s profile out of the corner of her eye. _Trust her. Tell her. Ask for her help._

Ryder caught her staring, and raised an eyebrow.

“Something wrong, Vetra? You were looking pretty troubled when I came up here.”

It was now or never. This was Ryder, who would want to help. She wouldn’t judge Vetra for her past, wouldn’t turn her back on her. Wouldn’t betray her trust. Vetra drew a deep breath and turned to face her head on. But it wasn’t Ryder she saw. It was Tilius, leaving her to die. Her father, walking out and never looking back. It was everyone who’d ever sold her out or put her down. It was people _she’d_ had to sell out, or sell out to. Every dark thing she’d ever done to stay alive. It was six dead colonists lying shriveled and forgotten in a prefab on Eos. Finally it was Lexi’s concerned face, mouthing _don’t let her take on more than she needs to._

But Vetra’s mouth was open, and Ryder was looking at her with increasing concern, and she had to say _something_.

“Do you think turians look like Kett?”

 _Stupid, stupid_ **_coward_** ** _,_** she lambasted herself, as Ryder boggled.

“Wh-what?”

“Our, um, faceplates,” Vetra continued lamely. “Do they make us look like Kett, do you think?”

Ryder’s expression turned grim. “Did someone say that to you? Is that why you look so upset? Who was it?” Her fists balled. “I won’t have anyone saying such things to you.”

“It was just an angara,” Vetra said hastily, “It’s fine, really. I just wondered what you thought.”

Ryder relaxed a little. “You’re not upset about it?”

“No, no,” said Vetra, waving her hands insistently.

The Pathfinder smiled and reached up to squeeze Vetra’s forearm. “I don’t think you look anything like them.”

“No?”

“Nope. You wear those faceplates better than any Kett ever could.”

“Pssht,” said Vetra, mandibles twittering bashfully. Ryder always had the nicest compliments.

“Come on,” said Ryder. “We’ve earned some serious rack time after the day we’ve had. Let’s head back to the ship.”

Vetra followed Ryder back down the stairs, a cold, heavy sense of despair settling over her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to write around all of Andromeda's plot holes is exhausting :/ How was the fact that the Exiles really made first contact never brought up? This is quickly becoming kind of a fix-it fic.


	5. Kadara at Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realise the similarity between Vetra/Vela until I had to write them next to each other a lot. Sorry if it makes it harder to read :/

The Tempest cut through the yellow mists of Kadara like a shining silver knife, slicing down towards the greasy sprawl of Kadara Port. It came to rest on a vacant landing pad, the late afternoon sun scintillating along its hull. With a sharp, metallic whine, its ramp lowered, and the Pathfinder’s motley crew spilled out onto the concrete.

  
“Ugh!” said Liam, holding his nose, “Is it just the port, or does the whole planet smell like a hot fart?”

  
Vetra sniffed the air, swinging a small bag over one shoulder. “This is what human farts smell like?” she asked dryly, “What goes _on_ in your digestive tracts?”

  
“I suppose turian farts smell like roses and sunshine,” Liam grumbled. He held up a hand. “I don’t actually want to know, by the way.”

  
“Less potty talk, folks,” said Cora. “Ryder? What’s the plan?”

  
The Pathfinder was surveying the horizon, where a lone Remnant monolith was faintly visible through the fog. “I have to meet Evfra’s contact,” she said. “For you guys...shore leave, I guess. For a couple hours at least.”

  
“Ace,” said Liam. “Got to be plenty of bars about. Anyone coming?”

  
As the team headed out into the city, Vetra sidled over to Drack. “We’ll need more than a couple of hours for this,” she whispered. Drack grunted.  
“We’ll figure it out,” he replied. “Let’s see about getting that shuttle first.”

  
Now, it was just the two of them and Ryder, who was looking at the riffraff locals like they might attack at any second.

  
“Relax, Ryder,” said Vetra, “This is a ceasefire zone, remember? Just do your best to look like a hardass and no-one will bother you.”

  
“A hardass,” said Ryder. “Right…” Her stride took on an affected swagger as she marched on. Ridiculous, but charming, Vetra thought.

  
The three emerged onto a small balcony overlooking the marketplace. Drack leaned against the railing and harrumphed. “Not too shabby for folks who got kicked off the station with nothing to show for it.”

  
Ryder scanned the crowd, gripping the rail tightly, trying to look confident. “Maybe we can get them back on our side,” she said.

  
Vetra leaned in next to her. “We know they can fight Kett,” she said. It was a long shot, but perhaps Kadara could provide them with a few new allies.

  
Drack pushed himself off and stumped away. “Our supplier’s waiting,” he called. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”  
A frown tugged at Ryder’s lips. “Do I even wanna know?”

  
“Nope,” said Drack and Vetra in unison.

  
“That was slick,” Vetra muttered as they meandered between clusters of shoppers. “Do you think she’ll be okay by herself?”

  
“She’ll be fine,” said Drack. “Just worry about your own mission.”

*****

The human dealer leaned back on his heel, arms folded. “Six hundred credits?” he sneered, “You’ve got to be joking.”

  
“I was told that was the going rate,” said Vetra, voice raised over the bustle of the crowded marketplace.

  
“Sure, for locals,” the dealer replied. “I don’t know you. You’ll need something extra for insurance.”

  
Vetra thumbed over to where the prow of the Tempest was just visible over the towers and marquees of the port. “We’re with the Pathfinder. Anything happens to the shuttle, you can send the bill there.”

  
The dealer looked no more impressed than before. “You think I’d trust anyone from the Nexus to keep their word to an Exile?”

  
The last of his patience evaporating, Drack pressed both of his thick hands against the counter, leaning forward until his snarling face was an inch away from the dealer.  
“How’s this for insurance? You rent us the shuttle, and I’ll _ensure_ that your head stays on your shoulders.”

  
The man blanched. Hurriedly, Vetra pulled up her omnitool.

  
“Look,” she said, “I’m good at getting things for people. I’m privy to a few secret supply lines coming out of the Nexus. There must be something you want. Food, tools, tech, what’ll it be?”

  
“Been needing a few more transponders,” said the dealer, still eyeing Drack’s bared teeth. With a few taps through her inventory, Vetra found what she was looking for.  
“Done,” she said. “Expect them within the week. Now, the shuttle?”

  
“Bay Six,” said the dealer, pointing with a shaky finger. “I’ll send you the keycode.”

  
Drack pushed himself off the counter with a satisfied grunt and followed Vetra to the waiting shuttle. Before they could reach it, however, their comms crackled. _“Vetra, Drack, are you back from...whatever it was you were doing?”_

  
Ryder. Vetra raised her arm to her lips.

  
“Yep,” she replied, “Our completely legitimate business deal went off without a hitch.” She waggled her browplates at Drack.

  
Drack chuckled. “Benefits of bringing a krogan along,” he added.

  
_“Tell Gil to prep the Nomad. I need to go outside the city. Drack, you know Kadara better than any of us. I’ll need you on the away team.”_

  
“Sure,” said Drack, before terminating the call. He looked up at Vetra. “I can get out of it,” he offered. Vetra shook her head.

  
“Ryder needs you,” she said. “Plus, I’ll have your angaran friends.”

  
Drack looked unconvinced, but sent her a set of coordinates anyway. “Don’t keep ‘em waiting too long,” he said gruffly. “And give that son of a bitch Caulus a good beating.”

  
“I plan to,” Vetra replied. She watched her friend shuffle off back to the dock until he disappeared into the thronging crowds, before turning to leave in the opposite direction. There was still one thing she needed to do before she left.

*****

The bar was squat and filthy, somehow more so than the rest of Kadara Port, with a gaggle of miscreants hanging in and around the entrance and drum-heavy krogan music spilling into the street. Someone had scrawled _‘Long live the Collective’_ across the front wall. Tann’s contact was supposed to be waiting inside.  
Vetra was stopped at the door by a hulking krogan bouncer.

  
“Password,” he rumbled.

  
Vetra stared him down. “Together, we rise,” she recited.

  
The bouncer stepped aside, and Vetra ducked to enter, elbowing past a few drunken humans. She got herself a table by a window, where the sulphur-thick breeze was actually more tolerable than the stink of old booze and unwashed bodies. She sat with the bag and its contents on the floor between her feet, tapping her finger to the rhythm of the thumping music. It wasn’t long before someone slid into the seat across from her.

  
“Long time no see, Nyx.”

  
Vetra’s eyes widened. “Dinal? Dinal Imor?” she exclaimed. “ _You_ joined the Initiative?”

  
The salarian tented his long, webbed fingers on the tabletop. “I was surprised to hear you’d joined too,” he replied, in a voice rough with age, “Although I suppose we both had a lot of reasons to want to start a new life.”

  
Dinal was sleek and well-groomed, his dark red skin untouched by scars despite, by salarian standards, a long and violent career. He still wore his STG armour, although there was no way he still answered to any salarian government.

  
“I haven’t seen you since Menae,” said Vetra. “Didn’t hear a thing from you after we escaped.”

  
“Intentional,” said Dinal. “STG’s policy was not to interact with hired guns once a mission was completed.”

  
“And now you work for the Collective?” Vetra asked. “Come on,” she added, rolling her eyes at Dinal’s perfect poker face. “We’re in a Collective joint. I know Tann’s not working with Sloane, and the Collective’s the only group challenging her.”

  
Dinal cast a sidelong look across the room, before leaning in.

  
“Tann believes, as I do, that the Collective will be more malleable to Initiative interests on Kadara,” he said. “Did you look in the box?”

  
“Nope,” said Vetra, sliding the bag across to Dinal with a foot. “Whatever’s inside would have been enough to get me Exiled if I’d been caught with it. That’s all I needed to know.”

  
Dinal placed the box on the table and flipped open the lid just long enough for Vetra to get a glimpse of its contents. Were those...bio amps? The Collective were stepping up their game, it seemed.

  
“Looks like everything’s in order,” said the salarian, shutting the box and returning it to the bag. “Let me buy you a drink. We should catch up.”

  
“Wish I could,” said Vetra, standing. “But I’ve got urgent business.” She thought for a second. “Maybe you can help me, though. Know anything about the Black Fangs?”

  
Dinal’s eyes glinted with recognition. “A bunch of delinquents from Omega. Their leader was the son of Talon’s old boss. Nasty guy. Tried to throw his weight around, wanted to bully his way into relevance. Sloane kicked him and his cronies out months ago. You’re looking for him?”

  
“I know where he is,” Vetra replied. “Just thought a guy like you might know something others didn’t.”

  
“Wish I could tell you more,” said Dinal, sliding the bag back under the table. “What’s your business with him? Maybe there’s another way I can help.”

  
Should she tell him? Vetra wondered. He’d fought by her side before, and Tann obviously trusted him. Without Drack, she was down a gun, too. He’d be useful to have along. But years of dealing with the galaxy’s worst had taught her not to involve more people in a scheme than was absolutely necessary.  
“Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “Good seeing you, Dinal. Let’s have that drink when I get back.”

*****

The Kodiak thundered across the scrubby wilderness of the Badlands, speeding high above the pools of steaming, corrosive water and outcrops of jagged rock, soaring nimbly over sheer mountain ridges. Somewhere in the inhospitable terrain below, Drack and another unfortunate were trapped inside the Nomad, having the teeth jangled out of their heads by the poor suspension. They really should just get one of these instead, Vetra decided.

  
Drack’s nav point was blinking on the screen mounted on the dashboard, closing in fast. Vetra spotted a broad shelf jutting out from the side of a tall cliff, several figures visible on its surface. That must be them. She took the shuttle in, counting ten angarans clustered around a small, personal hovercar. As she drew closer, the angarans turned and waved, coming to the edge of the cliff to greet her.

  
The Kodiak settled on bare dirt, throwing up a small cloud. Vetra hopped out and found herself face to face with an angaran woman, taller and sturdier than most. She looked over Vetra’s shoulder into the empty passenger cabin, surprise painted across her purple face.

“Are you alone?” she asked in a rich, deep voice, “Where’s Drack?”

  
“Couldn’t make it,” said Vetra. “Vetra Nyx. Pathfinder officer” She held out a hand, which the angaran took happily.

  
“I like this custom,” she said, beaming as they shook. “One of the many interesting things your races have brought us.” She released Vetra’s hand, then startled and grabbed it again. “Sorry! Still getting the hang of this. Vela de Quofraa, Heskaarl of the Resistance.”

  
A heskaarl. One of the angarans’ top-tier badasses. Her fighters crowded around her back, weapons in hand. Vela ran through their names and ranks, too quickly for Vetra to remember any. They nodded at her with varying degrees of amity.

  
“Drack told me all about you,” Vela went on, “About your, er, personal history with the Black Fang leader. Good to meet someone who wants him dead as much as we do.”  
Just how much had Drack told them? Vetra hated meeting people who knew more about her beforehand than she did them. It immediately tilted the balance of power in their favour. She was going to have words with the old krogan about boundaries.

  
“And what’s your beef with the Black Fangs?” she asked. “Is this about the angarans who went over to his side? Your friend Dasvari was happy to write them off.”

  
Vela frowned. “That was before Drack told us about red sand. That our people might be being used as experiments. Whatever they’re up to, it ends now.”  
“Let’s go kick their asses then,” said Vetra, eliciting a round of cheers from the fighters. “Everyone hop in.” She stepped aside to let the angarans pile in. As they filed past, she noticed someone climbing aboard the other shuttle. Their eyes met. He was human, dark haired with deep, hooded eyes. He looked her over, once, twice, before closing the door behind him. The shuttle took off towards the port.

  
“Who was that guy?” Vetra asked, as the Resistance fighters buckled in.

  
“A smuggler from your Exiles,” Vela replied, strapping herself into the co-pilot seat. “Good guy. He gets us weapons, armour, that sort of thing. One of the few who will.”  
Vetra strapped herself back in, noting the spectacular view outside the windshield. She’d have to come back here, once this was over. Maybe Ryder would like it too.  
Minutes later, they were soaring over the landscape, the angarans in the cabin talking softly amongst each other.

  
“We’ve had a scout watching the base ever since Drack forwarded us the location,” said Vela, fidgeting with the rifle on her lap. “It’s been quiet. Only a few small ships going in.”

  
“Any idea what they’re up to?” Vetra asked.

  
“None,” said the heskaarl. “But it feels suspicious. Like they’re planning something big. Go through that canyon, it’ll be harder for them to see us approach.”  
Vetra steered downwards, descending into the long, narrow gorge.

  
“They aren’t expecting us, I gather,” she asked.

  
“Very unlikely,” Vela replied. “Not even our superiors know about this operation. Only you, Drack, me and this lot,” she gestured at her crew, “My most trusted brothers and sisters at arms.”

  
This surprised Vetra so much that she almost steered into the canyon wall.

  
“Why wouldn’t you tell them?” she asked in disbelief. Vela shrugged.

  
“It’d turn into politics,” she answered, “Which I hate. Plenty of our people are still looking for reasons to distrust you, especially the government. You saved the Moshae and there’s still some saying you’re all no better than Kett.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “We have so much to learn from each other. We should be making each other stronger, not giving in to our base fears. This Black Fang thing’ll distract everyone from the real problem if it gets out, and while we’re all bickering, the Kett will end us.”

  
“So you’re going rogue,” said Vetra, relaxing a little as the canyon broadened out into a wide valley. “You’re a sensible gal, Vela. I can see why Drack likes you.”

  
Vela laughed, a booming sound that shook her whole body. “Drack likes me because I can shoot a Kett between the eyes at five hundred paces,” she said. “Take us down here. The base is just around the bend.”

*****

The Black Fangs had taken over an old Kett facility, spilling down the mountainside from the mouth of a large cave hundreds of feet above the valley floor. The base was small, but not easily assailable. A steep, treacherous path along the mountain was the only approach by foot.

  
The angarans had neither jet packs nor Vetra’s long limbs, and she spent a lot of time perched on rocks waiting for them to catch up. She tried getting in touch with Drack, but the topography was killing her radio signal, so she turned her attention to the base. It was the usual Kett mishmash of ugly, dumpy buildings on tall stilts linked by long platforms, criss-crossing up the slope like a creeping plant. With the zoom feature on her visor, she could see their way inside clearly. A small bridge between two buildings, blast doors guarding either side.

  
“No sentries,” she said as Vela climbed up beside her. “No sounds, nothing. It’s like the place is deserted.”

  
“No ships have left in days,” the heskaarl replied. “They’re in there.”

  
They picked their way along the narrow path until the bridge was within jumping distance.

  
“Still nothing,” Vetra said. “I don’t like this.”

  
“Me neither,” said Vela, “But we have to find our people.”

  
She leapt, landing neatly on the bridge with catlike grace. Here goes nothing, thought Vetra, and followed.

  
Vela was already inspecting one of the blast doors. “You can override this, can’t you?” she asked, as the remaining angara reached the bridge. Vetra’s mandibles flexed proudly. “Drack _did_ tell you all about me, didn’t he,” she replied, pulling up her omnitool. A minute later the door hissed open, revealing a deserted store room.

  
“Amazing!” said Vela. “Okay, we’ll split up. Aneyah, take five with you this way. Look for any sign of our people. Vetra, you, me and the rest will take the other route.”

  
Aneyah, a lithe, fierce female, picked her chosen five and headed off. The rest went back across the bridge, where Vetra had the door open in moments. Vela clapped her on the shoulder as she stepped through the doorway. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that - oh dear.” Her face fell as she took in the sight.

  
The room was utterly destroyed. Furniture smashed. Overturned meals spattered across the floor. Smears of blue blood everywhere.

  
“Angaran?” said one of the fighters, “Or one of yours?” Argaf was his name, Vetra remembered. The youngest angaran, barely out of adolescence. Almost Sid’s age.

  
“Hard to tell,” she replied. “These stains are old. With a smell like this, whatever happened here must have been a week or more ago.”

  
Vela bent down and scraped up a bit of dried blood with her fingernail, and licked it. “Not angaran,” she decided. “Did someone get to them before us?”

  
“And have all the fun themselves?” asked Vetra, “Hope not.”

  
Weapons ready, the team made their way through the room and into the corridor beyond. Here too were signs of a fight. The steel walls had been dented by an incredible force, buckling so far in places that sunlight streamed through the stress fractures. Something, or someone, had smashed its way through here with fiend-like force.  
Room after trashed room unfolded before them, until finally, at the top of a narrow staircase, the team discovered what appeared to be a slipshod laboratory. The fluorescent light flickered erratically, casting a scene of destruction into stark, sterile relief. The tiles were littered with spilled chemicals, broken equipment and shattered glass, as though a tornado had spontaneously appeared in the room. At the centre of the chaos was an examination table, dark with cobalt blood. The wrist and leg restraints were snapped. Vetra was starting to build up a horrifying picture of what must have happened to its last occupant. Vela reached out and touched the table with a shaking hand, her face a contorted blend of anger and pain.

  
“Something terrible happened here, to one of our own,” she said thickly. The four other angara inched their way through the mess, looking just as devastated as their leader.

  
“Here,” shouted young Argaf, “A door!”

  
Vela pushed past him, emitting a shout of horror as she disappeared into the side room. “Navos!”

  
This room was bisected by a set of bars, effectively creating a cage. On the far side, slumped in a filthy corner, was an emaciated male angaran, battered and bruised and naked from the waist up.

  
“Get him out!” Vela shouted. One of the females, Neffari, jimmied the lock. Vela hauled the door open and rushed in, scooping the prisoner into her lap.  
“Navos, can you hear me?” she cried.

With a weak groan, the prisoner stirred. “Vela…” he said weakly. The angarans gathered around him, kneeling in the filth to touch his face and shoulders, murmuring calming words through their tears. Jaal had told Vetra about the angarans’ tendency toward emotional displays, but this was the first time she’d really seen it. She stood well back, sadness sharp in her chest, watching them comfort the dying man.

  
“What did they do to you?” Vela was saying.

Navos drew a faint, shuddering breath.“They took us, one by one,” he rasped. “We did not see, but we heard…” He paused for another laboured breath. “They made me breathe it in...the dust...it turned my skin to fire. It made me...powerful. I tried to escape, but…” he shuddered again, “...the power did not last long enough. They dragged me back here and left me. They took the last two away."

  
“They will pay,” hissed Neffari. “They will pay a thousand times over.”

  
“The other two might still live,” said Argaf, eyes wide. “We must find them.”

  
“There must be something we can do for him,” said Vetra. “I have medigel…”

  
Vela shook her head. “What they gave him disrupted his bioelectricity. There’s no way he’ll make it to anywhere he can be helped.”

  
“Let me pass surrounded by friends,” Navos begged. “Please, Vela.”

  
The heskaarl grimaced, then pulled a knife from her boot. “ _Isharay, tavetaan,_ ” she murmured, before holding the blade to Navos’ throat.

  
Vetra turned on a swift heel and re-entered the lab, lacking the stomach to watch. To distract herself from what was happening in the cage, she began to pick through the debris. Navos had really done a number on the room, and presumably on whoever had drugged him. That kind of raw biotic power was incredibly rare. She’d never heard of anyone on red sand being able to produce mass effect fields of such intensity. Something about angaran biology must have been responsible.  
Vetra kicked aside a small box, giving it a second look when the label caught her eye. She squatted, picking up the box in both hands. Gordon Industries, it read. And the chemical information...

  
Oh, geez.

  
There was no way Caulus would have been able to get this on his own. Vetra had managed it only through a complicated series of mercantile gymnastics, relying heavily on her good standing with several Systems Alliance dealers. The presence of this chemical, from this supplier, could only mean one thing. This had been part of the shipment of starter chemicals that Vetra had procured for Otho, all that time ago. Caulus was killing angara with red sand that she’d helped create.  
“As if I didn’t have enough to feel guilty about,” she muttered, tossing the box away.

  
“It’s done.” Vela stood in the doorway, looking drained. “Let’s hope the others can be saved.”

  
The room juddered wildly, throwing everyone to the ground as an explosion rocked the building. The light blew, showering Vetra with glass. “What the hell was that?” she yelled into the darkness. “Everyone okay?”

  
“Aneyah! Report!” she heard Vela shout. Aneyah’s voice came through the comm, shrill with alarm.

  
_“They’re blowing up the base! They set charges right under us. Jeffar and Sen are gone!”_

  
“Get to the cave mouth, quickly!” Vela ordered, her panicked face illumined by the glow of the team's’ shoulder lamps. “That must be where they are.”

  
They hurried on, doing their best to stay upright as the building lurched from side to side. A second round of explosions battered the laboratory, pitching it to a terrifying angle.

  
“They set a trap for us,” said Vetra, stumbling over an upturned terminal. “But how did they know?”

  
“Think about that later!” Vela shouted. “For now, we survive!”

  
Finally they broke out into the open air, only a long, L-shaped platform separating them from the solid ground of the cave. “There they are!” came a distant voice. “Don’t let them reach us!”

  
The Black Fangs were already in position. As Vetra and the angarans charged for cover, the mercs lit up the air with a hail of bullets, catching Argaf in the shoulder. He dragged himself behind a screen as the building behind them groaned and twisted on its supports, threatening to tear loose and plummet down the dizzying drop.

  
“We have to get off this platform!” Vetra yelled, firing blind from behind a crate. “If that building goes, so do we!”

  
She clutched the railing as a terrific roar shook the ground. The far half of the base finally collapsed on top of its struts and tumbled down the jagged slope in an avalanche of dust and steel.

  
“Aneyah!” Vela bellowed into her comm. “Come in! Are you alright?”

  
There was no answer but static.

  
“ _Skkut_!” she raged through clenched teeth, cocking her sniper rifle and taking aim. One, two, three shots, and a Black Fang fell. Vetra was slapping the last of her medigel onto Argaf’s shoulder. “Can you stand?” she shouted in the young angaran’s ear. He nodded, wincing. Vetra snatched up her rifle. “I’ll draw their fire!” she shouted. “Follow me!”

  
She pushed forward, bobbing and weaving between cover, popping up for shots where she could, Arfaj close on her heels.She was losing shields quickly. A blast hit her in the side, and she collapsed, fighting for breath, as her shields finally shorted out. The platform rippled underfoot, slowly working its way loose as they reached the midpoint. From here, a support node linked them to the final stretch.

  
Ahead, Vela seemed unfazed by their precarious position, pinpoint-focused on vengeance. Machine-like, she advanced, methodically swivelling out of cover to land shot after on-target shot.

  
Vetra chanced a look behind them. To her horror, only Argaf looked back at her. The others were nowhere in sight.

  
“They fell,” Argaf cried, tears of fear and pain staining his cheeks. “They…”

  
“Pull yourself together!” Vetra snapped, gripping him roughly by the shoulder. “You fall apart now, you die!”

  
Argaf sniffed and clutched his rifle tighter. A beep from Vetra’s power armour signalled that her shields had recharged. She fired them up and surged forwards, pausing only to unleash concussive shots at the enemy. They were close now. One final dash would take them off the platform. She saw Vela leap, landing firmly on hard ground, throwing her sniper rifle to the ground and drawing a pistol.

  
“Come on!” she yelled back to Vetra, beckoning wildly. She grabbed Argaf’s hand and steeled herself for the final push.  
“I’ve got you,” she told the whimpering youngster, “We’ll make it.”

  
A ghastly snapping and grinding rent the air, and the platform pitched sideways as the laboratory finally broke free. The heavy building swung out like a pendulum, twisting the thick steel of the platform like paper. With an almighty shriek of metal on metal, it snapped in two, the back half plummeting into the abyss with the lab. Deprived of supports, the bridge began to bend under Vetra and Argaf’s weight.

  
“Run!” Vetra barked, tugging Argaf behind her. But it was too late. Her feet slipped on the metal floor as it plunged towards the sheer face of the mountain. She stumbled, slid backwards, caught a railing with her free hand. Her rifle spun out into the abyss.

  
“Hold on!” Vetra yelled. The bridge slammed into the mountainside with bone-rattling force, but she clung on, Argaf dangling in her grip. She looked up. Only ten or so feet to the top. She looked back down at Argaf. The young angaran stared back, wild-eyed.

  
“I’ve got a jump-jet,” Vetra told him. “Hold on tight, okay?”

  
For a second, Argaf looked relieved. Then his eyes widened.

  
The bullet caught him right between the eyes, sending up a spurt of cobalt blood. His grip slackened. Vetra blinked in shock, hardly noticing, at first, the crazed laughter spilling over the top of the cliff. When she tore her eyes away from the dead youngster, it was to see Caulus standing above her, pistol aimed casually at her face.

  
“Looks like you’ve got some _dead weight_ there,” he jeered. Caulus squatted, mandibles flexing smugly.

  
“Where’s your Pathfinder friend?” he asked. “Oh, wait, I forgot,” He touched a delicate claw to his temple. “You don’t have friends. Only people who betray you at the drop of a hat. You must be a real shitty person for people to give you up so easily. Can’t believe you let slip to Dinal, of all people. He’s slimy even for a salarian.”

  
Dinal? No. That was insane. How could he…

  
“Thanks for the bioamps by the way,” Caulus continued. “They’re a key part of my plan for world domination.”

  
None of this made sense! How could Tann have intended those bioamps for _this_? Vetra gritted her teeth, her chest muscles burning under the strain of holding both herself and Argaf.

  
“You blew up your own base to get me?” she called up to Caulus. “I must really terrify you.”

  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he retorted. “This was always the plan. Covering our tracks, and such. Your little invasion attempt just meant we had to move our plans ahead a couple of days. And the only one in your party who really worried us was your friend Vela. Thanks for her, by the way. She’ll make a _great_ test subject.”

  
Caulus stood. “I’m bored of you, Vetra Nyx,” he said, aiming his pistol once more. “I’ll tell your sister you died like a snivelling pyjak before I kill her too.”

  
He fired. Vetra felt a searing pain along the side of her neck, and then she was falling, spinning into the void, Caulus’ triumphant cackle ringing in her ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This little story is starting to get away from me, despite my meticulous planning. I'm expecting to have to add maybe a couple more chapters.
> 
> I never expected to ever write a fart joke; but then I also never expected to write a fanfiction, so I guess 2017 has been full of surprises.


	6. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to stay as far away as I could from simply transcribing scenes from the game, so I've changed up a lot of canon conversations in this chapter. With that warning out of the way...enjoy!

Wind rushed past Vetra’s ears as she twisted in the air, trying desperately to right herself. The steep, stony slope of the mountain was coming up fast. She had seconds to spare.

At terminal velocity, her jet pack wouldn’t stop her completely, but it would soften the blow. Her shields flashed up just as she managed to pull herself upright and fire her jets. Her organs pushed against her rib cage as she decelerated, and she threw her her arms about her head a second before she hit the ground.

Pain burst through her hip as she collided with the slope, dislodging a flood of loose shale and pebbles as she bounced down the mountainside, dirt clogging her mouth and nose, every sense an agonised blur.

With a resounding clang, her back hit something hard and cold. Disoriented and aching, Vetra lay unmoving, half buried in rubble.

A distant drone overhead finally opened her eyes. Far above, a flotilla of small ships was taking off from the mouth of the cave and barrelling away across the peaks of Kadara. They were leaving her for dead.

Slowly, Vetra pulled herself to a sitting position, every movement excruciating. Arfaj’s body was nowhere to be seen. She put a hand to her neck. It came away only a little bloody. For a gangster, Caulus was an awful shot.

Her fall had been broken by a section of snapped-off platform, and over its edge she could just see the smouldering wreck of the base, a contorted mess of metal and plexiglass strewn across the valley floor. Several parts of the ruin were on fire, with thick dark smoke billowing up in greasy streams. Even if any of the others had survived the fall, it didn't look good for them, and Vetra was in no condition to help. She had to get back to the shuttle and call Drack.

The Kodiak was mercifully close, parked in a nook along the valley floor well-sheltered from the fallout of the toppled base. Vetra half staggered, half crawled to it, and dragged herself into the cockpit, leaving smears of dust and blood on the seats.

Down here was a radio dead zone, she remembered. She'd have to get the shuttle in the air. Vetra’s head spun as she gripped the joystick, but somehow she managed to pull her senses together long enough to take off and point the shuttle towards Kadara Port. Once at altitude, she tuned the radio to Drack’s frequency.

“Drack?” she groaned, “Please don't be in a vault.”

 _“Vetra?”_ The sound of his gruff voice filled her with relief. _“Where are you? Been covering for ya, but everyone's starting to ask questions.”_

“Everything went to shit,” Vetra replied, steering sluggishly back through the canyon, “They took Vela. At least six of her soldiers are dead. The others might still be alive, but I can't get to them.”

 _“Shit!”_ said Drack. _“I'll get help, don't worry. There's Resistance camped out close by, Vela said. What about you?”_

“Thanks, old man,” Vetra sighed, “I'm on my way back. Just tell them to hurry.”

 

*****

 

The others hadn't made it. Vetra stared dully at the message that Drack had forwarded her from the Resistance, a terse summary of what they'd been able to recover from the base. It wasn't much, and gave her nothing to go on. Of course, they were demanding answers. What was Vela doing at an old Kett base? Why had she been captured instead of killed? Who was this mysterious ally who had alerted Drack? All things she now had to think up a believable explanation for.

They'd underestimated Caulus. His network, his resources, but worst of all his unbridled capacity for violence. And now for all they knew, he might not even be planetside any more. He could be halfway across Heleus, hiding out somewhere they'd never find him while he did terrible things to Vela.

Vetra closed her eyes and shut off her omnitool, letting her head thud softly against the wall of her little room. The painkiller that Lexi had given her was numbing enough that Vetra could do little more than sprawl out on the floor, half propped against the wall like a ragdoll.

She'd done worse than fail. Nine more people were dead, the Resistance had lost one of its best fighters, and now Caulus was out there somewhere with a full complement of military grade bioamps to toy with. Somehow, Director Tann was involved. How was she supposed to go up against the leader of the Initiative? Vetra rubbed the bare skin behind her temples in despair. The cluster would have been better off if she'd holed up in the Nexus with Sid and never even tried to stop Caulus.

A soft rap on her door broke her out of her funk.

“Vetra?” Ryder's voice. Vetra groaned and pulled herself upright.

“Come in,” she rasped.

Ryder entered, her crisp casual uniform near black in the darkened room, concern etched into her delicate face. She crouched in front of Vetra and looked her over.

“Lexi was right,” she said. “You do look like you've been thrown off a cliff.”

“What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” Vetra joked.

“What happened to _you_?” Ryder shot back. “You're AWOL for hours, miss the briefing on our next mission, and then show up looking like half the mercs on the planet took a swing at you.” Her brow furrowed. “And I get a bill from some guy in the marketplace for ‘upholstery deep cleaning’.”

She swivelled on her heels and scooted over to sit next to Vetra, her head barely reaching Vetra’s shoulder.

“If there's something going on, Vetra,” she said softly, “something you need help with, you can tell me.”

Vetra looked away. She should confess, she knew. She was so deep into this mess that she had no idea how she was going to pull herself out. But how could she possibly tell Ryder everything that had happened? That she was a worse criminal than Ryder could ever have imagined? That dozens of people were dead because of her focus on self-preservation, and that she'd risked the alliance with the Angara that Ryder had worked so hard to cultivate? It was no longer even about keeping her place on the ship. She could picture the hurt, the betrayal on Ryder's face when she learned what Vetra Nyx really was, and she didn't think her heart could stand it.

“There's nothing you need to worry about, Ryder,” she said, “I had worse days in the Terminus Systems. The occasional beat down’s just an occupational hazard.”

“Was this over our requisitions?” Ryder asked, her frown intensifying. “Vetra, look. We’ll live on protein bars. We’ll spread the medigel a little thinner. Whatever it takes. Just please don't get yourself into situations like that on the team’s behalf.”

“You're the boss, Ryder,” Vetra replied. The Pathfinder was too caring, too earnest. Vetra didn't deserve it. She waved vaguely at her battered body. “I'm no good to you like this, I guess.”

Ryder leapt to her feet, hands clenched, body taut with emotion.

“It's not about that!” she said hotly. “I don't care about how useful you are. I care about -” But she caught herself, apparently reconsidering her words. Had she been about to say...no. That was wishful thinking.

Ryder deflated. “I should get back to the bridge. We have to track down this Kett ship before we lose it.”

“We’re leaving already?” said Vetra, fighting to hide her alarm. There was still so much she needed to do here…

“The vault here can wait,” said Ryder. “We've got a flagship to break into. Get in touch with SAM, he'll catch you up.”

She left, with a final worried glance over her shoulder, leaving Vetra to her dismal thoughts.

 

*****

 

In the days that it took for the _Tempest_ to reach the flagship, Vetra’s trawl through the extranet for leads on the Black Fangs had come up empty. She spent hours in front of her console, brushing off Gil’s invitation to poker night, and Jaal’s repeated attempts to hold her to her promise to teach him about turians. There was nothing on Dinal, either. He'd slithered into some dark hole where none of her contacts could find him.

“Stop stressing about it,” Drack scolded her, when she finally stomped away from her console in a fit of frustration, “He’ll turn up eventually. Find something else to bother yourself with for a while.”

He was right, as usual, but Vetra waited until after he had slouched back to the kitchen to pull up an email from Sid that she'd been ignoring for the past day. She read it three times over, brow plates creasing.

Colonists going missing from settlements, and some connection to a mining hub on what was left. of the dextro homeworld. It seemed straightforward enough. Go in, rescue the colonists, save the day. Do some good for once. This was the sort of problem Vetra was happy to ask the Pathfinder for help with! She pinged off a quick email to Ryder, hitting send just as SAM’s voice echoed through the hold.

**We are approaching the Kett flagship. All hands on deck.**

 

*****

 

Ryder was dead. Her small body lay on the cold floor of the Archon’s ship, glazed eyes reflecting the dim green lighting. Vetra pulled against her restraints, willing the Pathfinder back to life.

“Ryder?” she called, “ _Ryder!_ Wake up!”

But she didn't. An eternity passed, and still the Pathfinder lay there, lifeless.

“Drack?” yelled Vetra, twisting in her handcuffs, “What do we do?”

Only a dark emptiness looked back at her. No controls. No screens. No Drack. Vetra turned back to Ryder. But it was no longer just the Pathfinder sprawled at her feet, but every victim of her six-hundred year old mistake. Six withered colonists, stinking of vomit. Bloodied gunshot victims with faces frozen in fear. And angara, some emaciated and tortured, or else riddled with bullet holes. Even Otho was there, with a gleaming, gory crater in his chest, his scarred face turned to Vetra with a mocking grin…

A crash jolted her out of the dream. She startled, head snapping up from where it had been resting on her arms at the mess table. She blinked blearily as the kitchen swam back into focus.

Drack had his back to her, angrily banging pots and pans as he assembled his dinner. He didn't notice Vetra until he turned to grab a spatula.

“Hey kid, didn't see you there,” he mumbled. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I'm glad you did,” Vetra replied, stretching her arms and back. She stood and shuffled over to the microwave. Inside, her food was barely tepid. That nap must have been pretty long. Really should sleep more, she chided herself.

Back at the table, Vetra watched Drack chop vegetables with a level of aggression he usually reserved for the battlefield. She cleared her throat.

“Still cut up about your scouts, huh?” she hedged. Drack growled like an oncoming thunderstorm.

“I let myself think that Ryder would be different,” he replied, dumping the vegetables into a pot. “That she'd have the krogans’ back for once. Fourteen hundred years I've been alive, and I still haven't learned not to trust aliens to do right by us.”

Vetra scooped up a spoonful of neon pink nutrient jelly. It wobbled unpleasantly.

“It was a tough choice,” she replied. She swallowed the jelly quickly, before her tongue could fully register the taste.

“It was _no_ choice,” Drack retorted, “Ryder picked a handful of salarians over a whole squad of krogan. I told you she'd have to get her hands dirty sooner or later. Just didn't think it'd be with krogan blood.”

Vetra shovelled in another mouthful before replying. “Don't write her off yet, Drack. She's only doing what the Initiative would approve of. Maybe once she's established herself, she'll be able to make her own decisions.”

“You're blinded by your feelings,” said the old krogan, glaring at Vetra over his shoulder. “I told you. People don't change.” His big yellow eyes flitted down to the half-eaten slop on her plate. “Wait. That's what you've been eating? You run out of real food?”

“Weeks ago,” Vetra admitted, getting to her feet to stick the jelly she hadn't been able to force down, into the fridge. She'd have some cereal later. “Haven't had the time to provision myself.”

Drack glowered at her. “You should be taking better care of yourself, Nyx,” he said. “You'll need to be at your best when...when shit gets real.”

“I know, I know,” Vetra replied, heading out. “Soon as I can, okay? Enjoy your meal.”

She made sure the door had closed behind her before knocking on the one immediately to her right.

“Come in,” came a light voice. Vetra did, slipping into the Pathfinder’s cabin like a breeze.

Ryder was at her desk, and spun round on her chair to greet Vetra with a tired smile.

“I was just about to reply to your email,” she said. “Sounds bad.”

“It’s definitely strange,” Vetra agreed. She stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, hands crossed behind her back. “Look, Ryder, I’ve been thinking…”

The chair squeaked as Ryder jumped out of it. “If you’re going to say something along the lines of, you don’t need my help for this,” she said, strolling over to her sofa and plopping herself onto it, “Just don’t. I want to help, okay?”

Vetra sat down next to her, watching her closely. She’d begun to recognise the signs of Ryder under stress. The strained expression. The incessant fidgeting with her fingers.

“Something’s eating you,” said Vetra. Ryder looked down at her interlinked fingers.

“I really screwed things up with Drack, didn’t I?” she asked quietly. Vetra slouched forward, propping her elbows on her long thighs, and sighed.

“You literally died today, and _this_ is what you’re upset about? Drack’ll realise that you were just doing your job,” she replied, “The way Initative HQ would want you to. You were doing your duty.”

Ryder shook her head vigorously. “It’s not even that,” she said, “I didn’t save Raeka because it’s what Tann and Addison would want.” She looked up at Vetra, worrying her bottom lip with her blunt human teeth. “ _Another Pathfinder_ , Vetra. Can you imagine what it felt like to find her? I’ve spent so long thinking I was the last one, that all of the pathfinding was going to be on my shoulders forever...I couldn’t just let her die. I couldn’t go back to being alone.” She drew her knees to her chest and clung to them. “I wasn’t being noble, or dutiful, or even utilitarian. I did it just for me. Because it would make _my_ life easier to live.”

Quite unthinkingly, Vetra shifted so that she was almost kneeling on the sofa, and took one of Ryder’s knees in a slender hand.

“Look, Ryder,” she said, subharmonics vibrating with impassioned sincerity, “I know a thing or two about acting in your own self-interest. You can’t expect to just sacrifice yourself for the greater good all the time. You’re allowed to put yourself and your survival first sometimes. Do what you can to put things right afterwards, but don’t torture yourself.”

Vetra paused, no longer sure exactly who she was trying to convince. She became pointedly aware of her proximity to Ryder, to the feel of the warm knee under her hand, to the way she was leaning in.

Ryder stared up at her, small mouth slightly parted. “You know,” she said breathlessly, “If you ever get tired of being a smuggler, you’d make an amazing motivational speaker.”

Vetra blinked. “That’s a job humans can have?”

Ryder’s face split into a big, affectionate smile. “You’re extra charming when you’re confused, you know that?” she said.

A magnetic force was tugging at Vetra, tugging her down to Ryder’s smiling mouth. But fear and a lingering uncertainty was pulling back just as hard. For several seconds, she froze in place, torn between pressing forward and running away.

An insistent beeping from her omnitool shattered the tension.

“It’s Sid,” Vetra said, sliding back down into the sofa. “I forgot. She’s been waiting for me to call about the kidnappings.”

Ryder sat up, her vulnerability slipping away as she switched into hero mode. “Let’s see what she has to say.”

 

*****

 

Peebee gripped her harness, the whites of her bulging eyes stark against her black facepaint.

“Ryder,” she shouted. “If you try to jump this canyon, I swear to the godde-aaARGH!”

Her scream punctuated the endless night as the Nomad sailed gracefully over the yawning chasm, plunking softly onto the far end in a puff of grey dust and continuing its low-g trip across the wide plain. Ryder whooped and pumped her fist, eyes bright with excitement. Behind her, Vetra shrieked with a kind of manic laughter, pointing to a crater in the distance. “Ramp that one next!” she begged. Without the teeth-rattling bucking and bounding brought on by planet-level gravity, driving around on H-047-c was a blast. Vetra hadn’t had this much fun in forever.

“You two are crazy!” Peebee yelled. “Ryder, you pull something like that again and I’m going back to the ship!”

“Sorry, Peebs,” said Ryder, lifting her foot from the accelerator, “Couldn’t resist it.”

“Spoilsport,” said Vetra. “Thought you liked taking risks?”

Peebee was livid. “When _I’m_ taking them, sure! Not when I have to trust a maniac not to drive us right off this stupid rock!”

“We’re nearly there, anyway,” said Ryder, spotting a tell-tale orange dome in the distance. “Let’s hope Sid’s intel was good.”

 

*****

 

 _Sid._ Sid couldn’t just stay on the Nexus, where she was safe, where Vetra knew she was well-fed and sheltered, and shielded from depraved Exile scum. No, she had to get herself mixed up in intrigue and drag Vetra all the way to this hunk of dead rock to rescue her from a megalomaniac mine operator. When other kids wanted to rebel, they snuck out to bars or raced hovercars. Sid? She’d tried to take down a literal crime boss.

A thug from their most recent skirmish was groaning on the floor. Still fuming about her errant sister, Vetra hardly glanced at him before putting a round into his skull as she passed. As she reached Ryder and Peebee at the exit, Merriweather’s voice sounded over the intercom.

_“So, you’re the rat who’s been killing my people.”_

_“No! I didn’t kill anyone!"_  This time, Sid. _“I don’t even know how to shoot a gun!”_

 _“You want your rat, Vetra Nyx?”_ Merriweather snarled, _“You come to_ me _.”_

Sid was still alive. For now. Ryder reached up and squeezed Vetra’s upper arm as they hurried down the final tunnel.

“We’ll save her, Vetra. Promise.”

They emerged, guns at the ready, into a long, low chamber. At the far end, trembling from head to foot, her white clothes in stark contrast to the gloom of the mine, was Sid. Vetra's gut twisted at the sight of the heavily-armoured human woman crouched at Sid's back, brandishing a grenade. Merriweather's lips pulled back over her teeth like a cornered animal when she spoke.

“Think carefully about your next move, Pathfinder.”

Ryder kept her pistol levelled at Merriweather’s face, but her eyes were on the grenade. “If that explodes,” she said, “it takes you out too.”

“You won’t let that happen,” Merriweather replied. She was dancing on the balls of her feet, thumbing the grenade incessantly. This was a desperate woman, driven to desperate measures. People like that were unpredictable at best, Vetra had learned.

Sid quivered, stricken dumb with terror, managing to squeak out a single word.

“ _Vetra_ …”

She’d never heard her baby sister so scared. Not even when their father left. Vetra held Sid’s gaze, trying to look more confident than she felt.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered back. “We’re going to get you out of this.”

“She’s just a kid,” she heard Ryder say. “Let her go!”

Merriweather snorted with laughter. “She’s taller than _you_. _And_ she hacked my systems. Guns on the ground.”

Fine. Whatever would get Sid away from that grenade. Vetra looked at Ryder pleadingly. Ryder nodded, and as carefully as they could, the team lowered their weapons to the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Vetra could see a small swarm of Merriweather’s goons dash into the room, lining up behind their leader to form a firing squad.

Vetra kept her eyes on Sid, still trying to wordlessly reassure her. Maybe she could work out a deal with Merriweather. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d bartered her way out of a fight. Everyone had their price, so what might Merriweather’s be? Mining equipment? More grenades? Vetra racked her brain as her rifle touched the ground.

A triumphant smirk spread over Merriweather’s face, a split second before Ryder fired. The bullet caught Merriweather in the cheek and rocketed out the back of her head. She fell, and the grenade slipped from her grasp and bounced down the stairs as her panicked soldiers opened fire. Vetra dashed forward, ducking under the gunfire. She scooped up the grenade and hurled it back, plunging onwards even as it erupted in a fireball that engulfed three soldiers. Faceplates singeing, she grabbed Sid and tugged her back to safety, shielding her with her body.

“Vetra!” Sid wailed as they cowered behind an oildrum. Vetra grabbed Sid's face and forced her to hold her gaze.

“Just stay here, baby girl,” she yelled over the ruckus. “This’ll be nothing.”

Sid nodded anxiously, and Vetra powered up her shields before rolling out into the fray.

With Merriweather down, the fight didn’t take long. Vetra breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the final merc spin lazily around Peebee’s singularity. The asari marched up to him, and ended him with a headshot.

“That’s what you get for kidnapping people,” she snapped as the merc’s body hit the ground. Peebee was growing on her, Vetra had to admit. She turned back to where she’d left Sid.

“Sid!” she called urgently. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Sid stood up shakily, mandibles shivering with shock. “I’m fine,” she said in a small voice. “I think.”

Vetra exhaled, relief flooding her whole body. As she paced the floor towards her sister, however, she could feel the anger coming back on. She grabbed Sid’s hand and dragged her out of earshot of the others.

“Ouch!” Sid squealed. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, okay?”

“You can’t just mess around with people from Kadara, Sid,” Vetra seethed. “You don’t know who you’re getting involved with!”

“Don’t I?” Sid pulled her hand from Vetra’s grasp. “I’ve got a better idea than you.”

Vetra looked quickly at Ryder and Peebee, who were doing their best to give the sisters space, rooting around for spoils in the dead Exiles’ clothing.

“Sid,” she hissed. “You have _no_ idea. _None_.” She took a deep breath to steady herself for the next sentence. " _Caulus_ is in Andromeda, Sid. He still wants us dead.”

Sid stared back at her angrily. “I _know_ ,” she replied.

For a second, Vetra was sure she’d misheard. “What...what do you mean, you know?”

Sid rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only one with eyes and ears off the Nexus, sis,” she said. “It was pretty big news on Kadara when he and his crew got kicked out by Sloane.”

Vetra checked the others again. Peebee was intently dissembling a rifle for its mods, while Ryder seemed to be talking to someone. Probably the colonists they’d saved.

"Wait," said Sid. "Are you keeping this a secret from the _Pathfinder_? What's wrong with you?"

“What's wrong with _you_?" Vetra snapped. "You know he's out there, but you still decided to get mixed up in all this? How could you be so...so reckless?”

“To help you stop him, of course!” Sid shot back. “What do you think Merriweather’s been prospecting for down here?”

Vetra paused. “Are you saying…”

“He and Merriweather were business partners. I was going through her logs before you got here, and that confirmed it. She’s been looking for eezo for him,” she shrugged, “What I don’t know is why.” She looked up at Vetra expectantly. Oh no. She was not going to let Sid get even more mixed up in this.

“Where’d you get your intel?” Vetra hissed. Sid pouted.

“You’re not gonna tell me anything? Fine,” she said, “I won’t either.” She turned and stomped back towards her shuttle. “I’ll go back to the Nexus like you want, and you can flounder around looking for him on your own. I _know_ where he’s gone, but if you won’t let me help...”

Vetra ran to catch up, throwing herself in Sid’s path.

“It’s not safe for you to get this involved!” she said, struggling to keep her voice low. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to protect you from the work I do, and you’d just throw that away?”

Peebee was looking up at them curiously now. Sid pushed past Vetra and continued towards the shuttle.

“I’m trying to _help,_  you doofus,” she snapped. “Whatever. I’m going home.”

Vetra watched her go, fists clenching and unclenching in frustrated anger. But if Sid could track Caulus down, she could too. Time to get back to the _Tempest_ and hit up some of her informants.

 

*****

 

The wall of the armoury shook as Vetra slammed her fist against it. “How many of my favours did you burn through, Sid?” she demanded. “That network took me months to build up. I’m dead in the water without it!”

 _“I used what I needed,”_ Sid retorted, her voice mangled by the quantum entanglement comm, _“And you’d be dead in the water if I_ **_hadn’t_ ** _done anything!"_

“Alright, so you used up half my favours and made me come bail you out of that hole. I think you owe it to me to tell me where the Black Fangs are.”

_“Not gonna happen until you tell me what’s going on, Vetra.”_

Vetra growled, stalking the room in agitation. “Sounds an awful lot like a bluff, Sid.”

Sid scoffed. _“How paranoid do you have to be to think your own sister’s trying to con you?”_ she asked. _“Forget it. I’m not talking to you again until you pull your head out of your bony ass and stop treating me like a naughty child.”_

She ended the call abruptly.

“Dammit, Sid!” Vetra raged, aiming a swift kick at the crate of Blast-O’s at her feet. Boxes of cereal went tumbling across the floor as the crate overturned. One burst open, showering the room with flakes, just as Ryder stepped into the room.

Ryder’s eyes flickered between Vetra’s heaving chest and the upset cereal.

“I guess you guys haven’t made up?”

Embarrassed, Vetra crouched and began picking up boxes, dumping them unceremoniously back into the crate. Ryder got down beside her, scooping the loose cereal into a pile.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to help,” said Vetra.

Ryder grinned. “That’s what you always say.”

She had her there. Vetra reached under a counter to scrape up a few errant cereal pieces.

“She won’t listen to reason,” she grumbled. “Sid, I mean. What’s so bad about living out your life in a safe place, never having to worry about danger? I wish I’d had that, growing up. I’ve spent my whole life trying to give that to her and look what she does with it.”

“She looks up to you, Vetra,” said Ryder, shovelling the cereal back into its box, “She wants to help people, just like you do.”

Vetra snorted. “She has no idea what I do.” _And neither do you,_ she thought. “What if the next time a Merriweather comes along, we aren’t there?” She looked across at Ryder, so close that their shoulders brushed each other.

“I can’t promise anything other than I’ll do whatever I can to look out for her.” said Ryder, looking up at Vetra with something equal parts tenderness and trepidation. “I care about Sid, Vetra. Because I care about you.”

And there it was, the admission that Vetra had feared and hoped for in equal amounts. She looked down at the few scattered crumbs of cereal they had missed. Ryder was no Tilius. Vetra had seen for herself, countless times, how good a person she was. She wouldn’t lie about something like this. But how could Vetra be sure? How could she ever trust someone with her heart again? And even if Ryder was sincere, wasn’t that a problem in itself? Letting her in would only make it certain that she’d find out how _not_ good Vetra was. And then she’d leave like everyone else did. Only this time Vetra would deserve it.

“Ryder,” she croaked, “I don’t know what to say.” It was the truth.

Ryder sprang up like something had shocked her, throwing her hands up as if to wave away the awkwardness. “You don’t have to say anything,” she stammered. “How about...I’ll let you get back to work, okay?”

She backed out of the room and hurried away, past a surprised-looking Cora.

Vetra  pulled herself back to her feet with a shaky sigh. It was for the best, she reminded herself. Getting involved with Ryder couldn't bring anything good for either of them. Switching her console back on, she pushed all thoughts of the young Pathfinder out of her mind. Favours or no favours, she was going to track down that asshole and _end_ him. Vetra cracked her knuckles, and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent twenty minutes sifting through google to make sure there wasn't a more specific word for 'cereal pieces' why am I like this


	7. The Best Policy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who had a mostly free weekend and plenty of writing time?
> 
> Thanks again for everyone who's kudos'd and commented so far. Feedback means the world!
> 
> Enjoy!

Vetra Nyx was thinking about kissing. Asari did it, she knew from limited personal experience. It wasn’t really a thing between turians. Two sets of faceplates made it awkward, and two sets of mandibles made it painful. Beyond the hasty make-out leading up to a one-night romp with an asari dancer in the Skyllian Verge years ago, Vetra had no experience when it came to mashing lips against another person’s.

Humans kissed. She’d seen them, in shadowy bar corners or popular date spots on the Citadel. She’d never really seen the appeal of it. Until now. In her down time, she’d managed to think of little else since her last conversation with Ryder. What might it feel like, to kiss her? Would it feel weird? Would Ryder think it felt weird, to kiss a mouth so unlike her own?

“Oy, dreamy,” said Gil, waving a hand in her face, “We playing, or what?”

Vetra started, and looked down at the neat stack of cards that Gil had dealt her. She scooped them up, mumbling an apology. Gil clucked his tongue.

“Finally get you away from that computer, and you’re still not letting yourself relax,” he said, fingering a stack of chips. “Better get your head in the game, or I’ll bleed you for everything you’ve got.”

“Just you try,” said Vetra, laying down a pair of cards. “I’ll raise you two hundred.”

She hadn’t needed much persuading to take a break. A week had passed since Merriweather’s mine, with no progress on any front. The team was on their way back to Kadara, where Vetra hoped she’d be able to pick up a trail. Until then, there was nothing much to do but hang out in the engine room and spend quality time with a friend she’d been sorely neglecting.

Half an hour later, as Vetra was gleefully raking up her winnings while a sulking Gil looked on, a pair of muffled, raised voices from the adjacent room caught their attention.

“Is that Drack?” asked Gil, trying to catch sight of the argument through the window, “And Jaal? What do _those_ two have to squabble about?”

Vetra had a very good idea what. She dropped the chips hastily, got to her feet and made for the hold.

“There must be something more that you can tell me!” Jaal was raging as Vetra and Gil entered. “The life of a hero of the Resistance is at stake! Surely that’s more important than protecting this ‘contact’ of yours!”

The two were squaring off on the upper level, Jaal with his back to Vetra, a white-knuckled picture of aggrieved fury. Drack glowered with irritation, looking moments away from punching Jaal in the face.

“I told you and the Resistance what I can, Jaal,” Drack thundered, “Now piss off.”

But Jaal was in no mood to be deterred. “Why are you protecting this person?” he asked, getting in Drack’s face as the krogan tried to elbow past him, “They might have some idea of where de Quofraa has been taken!”

“I promise you,” said Drack, eyeing Vetra resentfully, “They don’t.”

The door to the bridge opened, and Ryder marched in. She took one look at Jaal and Drack, and paused. When she spoke, it was with a glimmer of hesitance.

“What’s going on?” she asked. Jaal thrust a hand at Drack and glared at Ryder.

“Tell him,” he demanded, “He needs to cooperate fully with the Resistance in the matter of Vela de Quofraa‘s capture. He knows more than he is letting on, I can feel it.”

Drack snorted. “Tell _him_ he’s in danger of getting thrown out an airlock if he doesn’t get off my back.”

Ryder’s mouth twisted in vexation. “No-one’s getting thrown out of an airlock,” she replied. “Who’s been captured?”

“A heskaarl of the Resistance, “ said Jaal, “A hero. Without her, the Resistance efforts on Kadara are flagging. Some weeks ago she took a team to scout out a reactivated Kett base. The team was slaughtered, and de Quofraa abducted.”

“By Kett?” asked Ryder.

“By Milky Way aliens,” Jaal shouted. “That much we were able to determine. Your friend here,” he gestured sharply at Drack, “was the one who alerted the Resistance to what had happened, on behalf of some shadowy acquaintance who witnessed the abduction. He won’t tell us the identity of this person, even though they could be key to rescuing de Quofraa.”

Jaal finished, shoulders heaving with anger and exertion. Drack crossed his thick arms and grimaced at Ryder.

“I got my reasons,” he said. “My contact doesn’t know shit about where they took de Quofraa. I ain’t got no reason to lie about that. Vela’s a good friend of mine, and if I could tell you anything else to help her, I would. If you don’t believe me, no skin off my snout.”

Ryder bit her lip nervously. She’d been tiptoeing around Drack since the flagship, and didn’t seem willing to enter another confrontation with him any time soon.

“Come with me, Jaal,” she decided. “Tell me everything you know about the situation. Maybe we can figure something out.”

“But…” Jaal started, then huffed in defeat. With a final cutting glare at Drack, he followed Ryder back towards the bow of the ship.

Drack stumped over to the lift, turning to Vetra as he hit the down button.

“Coming?”

Vetra hopped onto the already descending lift with a muttered ‘later’ to Gil. Neither she nor Drack spoke until they were out of sight in the armoury. Vetra had made it clear to SAM weeks ago that her space was to be a no-eavesdrop zone. She hoped he was keeping to it.

“I’m sorry you had to cover for me again, Drack,” said Vetra. “If my head hadn’t been so knocked around, I’d have had the presence of mind to tell you to keep the abduction part quiet. Let them think Vela died and her body was irrecoverable, until we can find her. Maybe they’d be off your case then.”

“Let me get something straight, Vetra,” Drack replied, wheeling to face her, “I’m fond of you. Really am. But I’m also disappointed in you. And I am done with this Black Fang thing.”

Vetra was stunned. “Okay…” she managed.

Drack rested his bulk against the wall. “Right now, I’m keeping quiet because its what Vela would want,” he said. “She’d die to protect this alliance. Thinks its the only way to beat the Kett. But with the way things are going, looks like keeping quiet might be what causes a rift first. If it starts to go that way…” he shook his head in a clear warning. “I won’t sacrifice Vela for no reason. If you really want to help her and put an end to all this, come clean to Ryder. And talk to your sister. I’m not doing anything else for you until you do.”

“Drack, wait-” said Vetra, but the old krogan was already on his way out into the hold, the door closing behind him. Vetra put her head in her hands and sank down the wall, praying that _something_ would go right on Kadara.

 

*****

 

The skies over the Port were clearing. The sulphur-yellow clouds were rolling back, taking with them the worst of their wretched stink, revealing a sky as blue as turquoise. Along with everyone else in the marketplace, Vetra had her head craned up at the sight, mandibles flared in pride. Somewhere out in the badlands, Ryder had saved yet another planet.

Her own mission hadn’t gone so well. Between Sid wreaking havoc on her network and losing Drack’s help, she was getting nowhere with her inquiries. The Collective hadn’t even allowed her back into their crummy dive. Resigned to her defeat, Vetra had gone back to something that never failed to soothe her nerves. A spot of retail therapy.

She returned her attention to the kiosk. The prices were a little steep, she groused inwardly. Maybe there was something she could do about that.

“Hey,” she called to the asari vendor lazing in a deckchair, “Get me a better price on this incendiary ammo, and I’ll sell you two crates of pistol alloys for a quarter the market rate. What do you say?”

The asari cracked an eye open. “You’re that turian who hangs around with the Pathfinder, aren’t you?” she said. “Heard folks say you keep your word when it comes to business. I’ll take those alloys.” She typed languidly into the console by her side. “How’s this price do ya?”

“Its a deal,” said Vetra, ordering a box. It wouldn’t get her back into Drack’s good graces, but it might cheer him up a bit. “Send someone over to dock 3B in the next hour or so to pick up your purchase.”

“Pleasure doing business with ya,” said the asari, closing her eyes again.

Vetra stepped away from the stall, satisfied with her afternoon’s bartering. Time to head back to the ship.

“That was impressive,” came a gentle voice behind her. Vetra’s heart leapt in her chest as she turned. “Hey Ryder,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. “Lovely weather we’re having.”

Ryder was still in her hardsuit, face lightly smeared with dirt, her hair sweaty and plastered to her scalp. She was beautiful nevertheless.

The Pathfinder smiled bashfully and shrugged. “It’s getting kind of routine now,” she said. “Descend into the ground, shoot some robots, outrun a death cloud. Not as impressive once you’ve done it four times.”

“It’ll always impress me,” said Vetra. The two walked side by side through the crowds, meandering towards the docks. They hadn’t spoken much since _that_ conversation, and when they had, it had been terse and awkward. It was nice to finally feel easy in each others company again.

“Seriously though,” said Ryder, “I’ve got a lot to learn from you about haggling. I’ve got no head for it at all.”

Vetra chuckled. “Wanna know the best part?” she asked, eyeplates raised mischievously, “I didn’t even pay for those alloys in the first place. Some trader on Eos threw them in for free with a box of plant feed for Cora, and they’ve been gathering dust in the hold ever since. I made back more than I spent on that ammo.”

Ryder’s brows lifted in mock scandal, “You conniver! I suppose I should be glad you’re on our side! If you were a vendor here, you’d probably have swindled me out of my ship by now.”

Vetra let out a hearty laugh. Spirits. She’d never felt this happy and relaxed around _anyone_. What was it about this little human woman that was so special? She looked down at Ryder, unable to conceal the affection in her eyes.

**Pathfinder. Sniper detected on a rooftop to the left. Suggest evasive action immediately.**

Ryder’s eyes widened, and before Vetra could react, the Pathfinder was tugging on her neck, pulling her down to a crouch with one hand while she threw up a desperate barrier with the other.

The barrier shattered with a roar as the round disintegrated against it in a flurry of sparks. Vetra was up and running in an instant, tugging Ryder behind her as the crowds descended into screaming pandemonium. Another round whirled past her head and shuddered into the concrete. She shoved Ryder ahead of her into the shelter of a stall, and tumbled in behind her. Several terrified shoppers were already cowering among the goods.

Ryder reached for the pistol at her side, but Vetra grabbed her hand quickly.

“Don’t” she warned. “It’s a ceasefire zone, remember?”

“That sniper doesn’t seem to care,” Ryder snapped. “They could hurt people, Vetra!”

“You open fire, Sloane will have the reason she’s looking for to throw you out,” Vetra hissed. “Keep your head down and let the Outcast handle it.”

Sure enough, among the panicked cries, they could hear orders being shouted. A volley of shots rang out from ground level.

“Get after ‘em!” someone yelled. “Don’t let them get away!”

A salarian whimpered. “Is it over?” he asked shakily. Ryder released her grip on her pistol.

“Think so,” she told him, “but stay down just a little longer.”

The next moment, the large, greenish head of an Outcast krogan guard loomed over the counter.

“All clear. Shooter ran off,” he growled. “You two,” he motioned with his chin at Vetra and Ryder, “best come see Sloane. She’ll want to talk to you about this.”

 

*****

 

Sloane Kelly lounged in her throne, the late afternoon sun filtering through the slats in the window behind her to throw a long, slitted shadow across the floor. Vetra and Ryder stood before her, the krogan guard giving Vetra one last leer before skulking off to the side.

“Ryder,” Sloane drawled, her haggard face creased in annoyance, “Fucking with our weather wasn’t causing enough of a scene for you today?”

“I _fixed_ your weather,” Ryder shot back, uncharacteristically combative. That sniper must have really put her on edge, Vetra thought. “You’re welcome, by the way. And I don’t know what happened. We were walking in the market, minding our own business, when someone started taking pot shots at us.”

“And you’ve no idea who?” said Sloane, cocking an eyebrow. “I suppose, knowing how many people you’ve pissed off since getting here, it could be anyone.”

“Could be your people, for all I know,” said Ryder, scowling.

Sloane’s face darkened. “Please. If I decided to off you, I’d have a little more finesse. And the sense not to do it in the middle of my own marketplace.” She leaned forward and flicked a dismissive hand at Ryder. “You need to leave Kadara for a bit. You’ve pissed off someone that bad that they’ll break _my_ rules, and that means trouble for me. Don’t come back until I give the say-so.”

Ryder seemed about to argue with this, but relented. “Fine,” she said. “I’m done here for now anyway. Enjoy the weather.” She turned to go. “Come on, Vetra. Let’s get back to the ship.”

Vetra stayed put. “Actually, Ryder,” she said cautiously, “If you don’t mind, I need a word with Sloane. Meet you outside?”

Ryder was taken slightly aback. “Uh, sure thing,” she said. Throwing Sloane a final dirty look, she left the room in the escort of the same krogan guard.

Vetra returned her attention to Sloane. The ruler of Kadara Port looked back at her with peeved disinterest.

“What is it _you_ want?” she asked. “I know who you are. If you’re trying to sell me something, I’ll put your head on a pike with the Kett.”

“Nothing of the kind,” said Vetra, raising her hands in surrender. “Just thought you ought to know, I’m pretty sure I know who sent the sniper. And they weren’t aiming at the Pathfinder.” She took a deep breath. “They were aiming at me.”

Sloane’s eyes narrowed. “Talk. Quickly.”

And Vetra did. It was a condensed version of events, but it was the truth. She left out her personal connections to Caulus, but got across everything she thought Sloane needed to hear. It sounded ridiculous, actually hearing the situation verbalised. The Black Fangs were trying to raise an army of biotic angara to overthrow Kadara Port, and may or may not have teamed up with the Collective. She omitted Tann’s involvement. No need to give any information that might hurt Ryder’s standing with Sloane even more.

By the time Vetra finished, Sloane was leaning forward in her chair, arms propped on her knees, face half obscured by her interlocked fists, her eyes flinty. There was silence for a few seconds. Vetra shifted uncomfortably under Sloane’s scrutiny.

“That’s quite a story,” Sloane said eventually. “That shitstain Caulus still trying to prove he’s as big a kingpin as his daddy, is he?” She sat upright, her head silhouetted against the window. “If you’re telling me the truth,” she continued, “then I’ve got work to do, and I definitely don’t need you lot hanging around distracting me.” Once more, she waved a hand in dismissal. “You keep Ryder out of my hair, I’ll let you know what I find. I’ll put a bounty on this Dinal character too. I dont’t want to see the _Tempest_ crew until I _do_ want to see you. Understand?”

“Perfectly,” said Vetra. “Thanks for your time, Kelly.”

Ryder was waiting for her outside, bouncing on jittery feet. She looked up in relief as Vetra neared.

“There you are,” she said with a small smile, “Let’s get off this stinky rock, huh? Before someone else tries to turn us into Swiss cheese.”

“Are you okay?” said Vetra. “Didn’t really have time to check on you, what with that asshole guard.”

Ryder frowned as they walked together, passing through the final set of doors to the docks.

“I’m angry, mostly,” she said. “Some passerby could have gotten hurt by that sniper. _You_ could have gotten hurt,” she seethed, fists balled, “Because of some lowlife with a grudge against me or the Nexus. And now Sloane won’t even let me hunt them down.”

Guilt turned Vetra’s stomach. Poor, naive Ryder. Vetra had almost gotten her killed, and all Ryder could worry about was _her_  getting hurt. Looking down at the young Pathfinder, Vetra made her decision. She was sick of watching people get hurt because of her and her big stupid secret.

“If anyone can catch the sniper, it’s Sloane,” she replied, as the _Tempest_ heaved into view around a corner. “She’s got to protect her reputation as an iron fist, after all.”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Ryder, worrying her lip. “Let’s just get back, okay? Let Sloane do it her way. We need to get back to the Nexus. There’s a bunch of things I’ve got to do there.”

“Good idea,” said Vetra. “I've got some important business there too.”

 

*****

 

The gleaming white expanse of the Nexus wards were as different from the filthy streets of Kadara as it was possible to get. Apart from a half-furbished structure here, or a pile of abandoned food crates there, it was difficult to tell that anything was still amiss on the station. Even so, Vetra walked the corridors and thoroughfares of the ward with her head ducked, constantly reminding herself that she was in no danger of being sniped at here. Or was she? She still didn’t know exactly what Tann’s part in this was. _He_ could have sent the sniper, for all she knew.

She found her destination and, swiping her keycard into the security box, slipped inside.

The sound of the vidscreen blaring hit her first. Blasto, she recognised. Sid still watched that schlock? The sofa was facing the vidscreen, its back to Vetra. A single slender foot dangled over its edge.

“Hey kid,” Vetra said to the foot. “Thought you were making me a welcome back lunch?”

Sid’s head popped up from behind the cushions. “Vee!” she exclaimed, hopping up and powering the vidscreen down. “It’s in the microwave. Just got to heat it up. Gimme a sec. Sit down, sit down...”

Vetra took one of the stools at the counter of the apartment’s tiny kitchen, watching in mild amusement as her sister bustled around with plates and utensils.

The lunch had been Sid’s idea. There weren’t any real restaurants open on this part of the Nexus yet, and the apartment would give them a little more privacy. It was cosier, too. It was nice to have a place to come back to outside the _Tempest_.

“Here you go,” said Sid, setting down a steaming platter of Vetra’s favourite fish. “Tuck in!”

Verta did just that, devouring her food with a speed and ferocity that left Sid watching in awe.

“Geez, Vee,” she said, as Vetra contemplated licking her plate clean, “I know I said your butt was bony the last time I saw you, but are they _actually_ starving you?”

Vetra decided against licking her plate in favour of going for some fruit on the countertop. “Space rations suck,” she replied. “Another reason you don’t wanna do what I do.”

“We’ll see,” said Sid. “You’re still keeping your promise, right?”

Vetra rolled her eyes. “Yes, Sid,”she replied, mouth full of fruit, “I’m going to tell you everything. Just let me stock up a little.”

And she did tell her everything. The whole truth, not just the smoothed-over account she’d given Sloane Kelly. The encounter with Caulus on the Nexus. Tann’s bioamps. Vela and her loyal band of fighters. The box of chemicals she’d found with the familiar label. The experiments. The assassination attempt. How strained relations were getting on the _Tempest_. How keeping everything a secret from everyone was becoming harder and harder. How Drack was mad at her. Even Ryder’s confession, something Vetra thought she’d go to her grave having never told a soul. It just felt so good, telling the truth after all this time, like a weight was lifting from her shoulders with every word. She finished, and Sid leaned back in her chair, shaking her head.

“Oh my God, Vetra,” she said. “This is so _wild_. Tann sponsoring drug dealers to kidnap angara and take out Sloane Kelly? I can’t believe you managed to keep this from the Pathfinder for so long!”

“‘ _Oh my God_ ’?” Vetra repeated, eyeplates raised.

Sid shrugged. “That’s what happens when you work with humans all day. You get all _multicultural_. That lady in the workstation next to me? Twenty times a day.” She adopted a high falsetto in mockery of a human voice. “Ohhhh my Goooooddd.”

Vetra’s mandibles twitched in amusement. “Dork.” She pointed the core of her finished fruit at her sister. “Your turn. Spill.”

Sid sniffed indignantly. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook, sis. I’m going to _grill_ you about Ryder.”

‘ _Oh my God,_ ” said Vetra, slapping a palm across her face. “Where is Caulus, you brat?”

“Okay, okay,” said Sid. “You remember when I was hacking Merriweather’s systems?”

“Yeah,” said Vetra, going for another fruit.

“I got into her email too. Plenty of back and forth between her and Caulus. Downloaded everything onto my omni,” said Sid, pulling it up and inviting Vetra to accept a transfer of data. “Totally wiped her systems when I was done, of course. Not that she’d have needed them after you were done with her.”

“Get to the point, Sid.”

“Okaaay. Geez. He and Merriweather are supposed to meet on Elaaden a week or so from now.”

“Elaaden?” said Vetra. “That’s the place the krogan took over, isn’t it?”

“The same! Got a nav point and everything for where he’s set up. And best of all,” she waggled her eyeplates, “Caulus doesn’t know anything’s wrong. I’ve been emailing him pretending to be Merriweather since the mine.”

Vetra swallowed her bite of fruit and stared at Sid. “You genius,” she whispered. “We can catch him totally by surprise.”

“Who’s we?” Sid retorted. “Are you finally gonna tell Ryder? Maybe if you give her a kiss first she won’t mind so much that you’ve hidden this from her.”

Vetra swatted at Sid’s arm. “ _Brat_. I’ll...I’ll have to think about it.” She pushed her stool away from the counter. “This has been great, Sid. I promise I’ll stop by again before we leave. But theres one more thing I need to do.”

 

*****

 

Kesh was at her desk, as always. Drack was there too, looking far more surprised to see Vetra than she was to see him.

“Vetra,” said Kesh, striding over to grip Vetra’s hand in hers, “Glad you could stop by. What brings you here?”

“Nothing good, I’m afraid,” she replied, looking at Drack. “We’ve got some troubling things to tell you about your colleague. Tann.”

Drack’s brow wrinkled. “Do we now?” he rumbled. “You sure about this, Vetra?”

Vetra folded her arms. “Honesty’s my new policy, Drack. No more keeping secrets.”

Kesh looked quizzically between the two. “I’m sorry,” she said, “What?”

“You should find a chair,” said Drack. “This is gonna take a while.”

 

*****

 

The superintendent let out a long rush of air from her flaring nostrils, and screwed her eyes shut, rubbing furiously at her headplate.

“Grandpa,” she said to Drack, “Vetra I can understand, but how could you keep this from me?”

Drack shrugged. “What were you gonna do?” he asked, “Arrest Tann yourself? He’s already trying to get rid of you. He doesn’t need another reason to. We _need_ you here.”

“So what _do_ you want me to do with this information?” Kesh retorted. “I can’t just sit by and let Tann’s scheming wreck our alliance with the angara.” She paced about her office, shaking her head. “Arming Exiles and pitting them against each other. What is he _thinking_?”

“That’s what I’d like you to find out,” said Vetra. “You’re the only one we can trust to keep tabs on him. My sister can help you. She’s good with spying on people.”

“You’re acting like we aren’t all spying on each other already,” Kesh snorted, “But I’ll do what I can.” She clapped a hand on Vetra’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me about all this, old friend. I’ll do my best to see what I can do about the angaran’s concerns too.”

Drack followed Vetra as she headed back to the tram.

“Good to see you turning a new leaf,” he grunted. Vetra slowed until they were side by side, making sure no-one was within hearing range.

“You were right, old man,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Keeping quiet is only causing people to suffer. This has to end.”

“Ryder?” Drack asked. Vetra hung her head and swallowed.

“Not yet. That’s gonna be harder.”

Drack hit the button to call the tram. “Don’t wait too long. It’s like pulling a rotten tooth. Just get it over with.”

Vetra let out a shaky breath as the tram pulled up. “I’ll try, Drack. I’ll try.”


	8. Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I am in the sticks with no reliable internet atm, but will update soon as I can.
> 
> What was up with Liam? I was all set for him to be my #1 bro, and then right off the bat he's a huge dick to Vetra. Hope you enjoyed spending the rest of the game parked on your crummy sofa, jerkface >:(

To: Vetra Nyx  
From: (blocked)

_You sure you aren't part vorcha, Nyx? No matter how many times we try to stomp you, you just won't die. It’d be impressive if it wasn't so fucking annoying._

  
_This little crusade of yours has gone far enough. You think that because you're palling around with the Pathfinder, you're some kinda hero now? That you're gonna be judge, jury and executioner for the rest of us? You're no better than me, Nyx. In fact, you're worse. You didn't give a shit about red sand when it was gonna put credits in your pocket. When you thought you could just run away with your loverboy and forget._

_  
I know you know I don't actually give a shit about you or your bitch sister. I've moved on. I've got my sights set on bigger things than mere revenge. No. This is about you. You wanted to come here and reinvent yourself, just like everyone else. But unlike the rest of us, you want to be something you're not. You want to pretend be one of the good guys. But as long as I'm here reminding you of where you came from, you can't do that. That's why you're after me._

  
_You know how I know this? Just look at you. Teaming up with Sloane Kelly? The woman’s a bigger drug pusher than anyone else in Heleus. Not to mention the shit the Initiative pulls by the day. Tann’s not the only dirty one and I think you know it. As for the angara? Exiles are kicking their shit in wherever they can. At least I'm putting them to use. But I'm the only one you care about stopping.  
You're a pathetic, self-serving hypocrite, Nyx. I'll always be better than you, because I own what I am. Come at me all you like. It won't make a difference. You'll never be worthy of licking your precious Pathfinder’s boots._

 

 _At least his typing's improved_ , Vetra thought, as with a swift press of a button, she deleted the email from her omnitool. She took a deep, shuddering breath and got up, doing her best to keep quiet so as not to wake Cora and Suvi, who were fast asleep in the upper bunks.

  
The communal sleeping quarters hadn't appealed to Vetra in the least. She was a light sleeper, and between Drack’s snoring and the varying circadian rhythms of the _Tempest_ crew, getting a good night’s rest was next to impossible. She'd even tried bunking down in the armoury once, but the persistent light of the engine core had put a stop to that. So, the bunks it was, grabbing what rest she could here and there.

  
The ship was in night mode. The lights were dimmed, and a peaceful hush had set in. Liam and Jaal were probably sprawled out on that mouldering sofa with a vid. Kallo would have fallen asleep at the helm, again. Everyone else would be tucked away in whatever personal space they’d managed to stake out, quietly doing their own thing. It was times like this that Vetra most liked to wander the ship, clearing her mind of thoughts and troubles.

  
And boy, did she need to clear her mind right now. The email might be deleted, but every line was embedded in Vetra’s memory, running unbidden through her thoughts again and again.

  
He was right, of course. This hadn't been about protecting Sid in a very long time. She'd been trying to cut ties to her murky past, but she was still as shifty and disreputable in her methods as ever. But Vetra had to believe that she could change, that she could be better. And to prove it, she knew, she was going to have to start with a long overdue conversation.

  
Vetra found Ryder at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of steaming hot chocolate, a faraway look in her eyes. She looked up as Vetra walked in, and smiled faintly.

  
“You're still awake,” she said.

  
“So are you,” said Vetra, sitting down opposite Ryder on one of the swivel chairs. They weren't quite built for turian stature, and her knees bumped against Ryder’s.

  
“Sorry!” she said quickly, trying ineffectively to shift her legs. Ryder scooted further down the bench and patted the now-empty spot next to her.

  
“Plenty of space here,” she said. “You'd think salarians would've designed more height-friendly seats.”

  
Vetra obliged, and slid in next to Ryder, catching a heady whiff of chocolate on her breath. Oh, how she wanted to lean in closer...

  
Ryder fiddled with her mug. “I had a chat with Sid while we were on the Nexus.”

  
Vetra froze.

  
“Don't worry!” Ryder laughed. “We weren't talking about you. Much. She asked me to help investigate attacks on some of our ships.”

  
Had she now, thought Vetra. Was this related to their own investigation? What was Sid up to?

  
“She's a good kid,” Ryder was saying. “You did a great job raising her.”

  
“Yeah,” said Vetra. “I haven't got much to be proud of, but I am proud of her.”

  
Ryder finished her sip. “Selling yourself so short? That's unlike you.”

  
Vetra looked away. She looked at the cabinets, at the floor, at the slightly stained tabletop. She looked at her own tightly clasped hands in her lap.  
“Ryder…” she began.

  
“Sara,” said Ryder. “Please. I'm so tired of everyone calling me by my surname, when we don't do that for anyone else. Makes me feel singled out.”

  
“...Sara, then,” said Vetra, “I haven't been honest with you. Not from the moment we met.”

  
Ry-...Sara looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  
“Vela de Quofraa,” Vetra said. “I know who has her, and where, and why.”

  
Sara said nothing for a moment. Then, “Should I fetch Jaal?”

“No,” Vetra blurted, “Just...let me get this out, alright? She was taken by a group called the Black Fangs. They've been experimenting on angara with red sand, trying to turn them into soldiers to use against Sloane and take Kadara. Sid tracked them to Elaaden, and we’ve been planning a surprise attack for when we reach it. We think that's where Vela is.”

Sara’s face shifted through bewilderment, to shock, to icy-cold comprehension. “You were Drack’s informant,” she whispered. “That day on Kadara, when you...You were there.”

  
Vetra surged on. “I've been after their boss since the day I got here. To Andromeda. I signed on with the _Tempest_ to make it easier to hunt him. Back in the Milky Way, I-I sold him the starter chemicals for the red sand. I didn't know he’d bring it here. And then I thought...I thought I could put an end to him before he became a problem. I didn't think it would blow up like this.”

  
Vetra petered off, running out of steam in the face of Sara’s stony silence. The Pathfinder was staring into the depths of her half-finished chocolate, working her jaw as she clutched the mug tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

  
A nervous itch started up under Vetra’s skin. She wanted to run, to find a vacant escape pod and eject herself into the nearest star. Anything to not have to watch the anger trembling in Sara’s eyes.

  
“Vetra,” Sara said at last, in a voice she struggled to keep even, “You should have told me.”

  
“I know,” Vetra whispered. “I was afraid to.”

  
“You were the one person on this ship that I thought I could trust. I-” Sara stopped herself, and closed her eyes with a sharp exhale. She took a few deep, measured breaths, and stood abruptly, hands splayed on the table.  
“This is what we’re going to do,” she said. “We’re going to find Jaal, go to my quarters, and you are going to tell us everything.”

  
Vetra shuffled off the bench hastily to let Sara out, and followed her into the hall. There was no going back now. For better or worse, things were about to change.

 

*****

 

“Five hundred for the lot, and that's as low as I’ll go,” the krogan rumbled. He rested a grudging hand atop the box of grenades. “These things are high-demand.”

  
Vetra sighed irritably. The burning Elaaden sun made it hard to concentrate on business, especially with a folk as stubborn as the krogan.  
“Alright,” she said, transferring the credits, “You win this round.”

  
She hefted the box under one arm and left the stall, trying as much as possible to stick to the shaded patches. Paradise was less crowded and dirty than Kadara Port, but what it lacked in odour and noise, it made up for in heat and blinding brightness. Vetra was almost beginning to miss Voeld.

Ryder had set off hours ago with Drack and Peebee to New Tuchanka, leaving the rest of the crew to amuse themselves in the little trading post. Vetra had spent her time partaking of some much-needed resupplying, but was now running low on credits. Time to call it a day and head back to the ship.

  
Liam was squatting on the shaded ramp of the _Tempest_ , sipping on a beer glistening with condensation. He stared Vetra down as she approached.

  
“Another successful drug deal?” he asked, “Or more illicit weapons? What are you gonna surprise us with this time?”

  
“Shut up, asshole,” said Vetra, striding past him up the ramp.

  
“Asshole, maybe. Drug dealer, definitely not,” Liam retorted, “I know which one I prefer.” He followed her up the ramp. “I lost a good friend to red sand, you know.”

  
Vetra dumped the box in the corner, remembering belatedly that grenades warranted more careful handling. “I didn't know, no,” she replied. “I'm sorry.”

  
“I bet you are,” said Liam. He took a deep draught of beer. “But It's easy to feel sorry after you destroy someone's life.”

  
Vetra faced him, “What do you want me to do, Kosta? I didn't hurt your friend. You're projecting again.”

  
“Not you, sure,” said Liam. He drained his can and crushed it between his hands. “But someone like you. You don't belong on this ship, Nyx. I'm not the only one who thinks that. Hopefully when this Black Fang thing is over, Ryder’ll have the sense to leave you here with the other lowlifes.”

  
A hot spike of anger surged through Vetra’s chest, but before she could answer, the rumble of an engine announced the Nomad’s return. The vehicle roared up the ramp, trailing dust and the acrid smell of fuel. It powered down, the hatch opened, and out jumped Ryder, looking weary and in need of a shower. Peebee and Drack were close behind, Peebee’s pallid face suggesting that the new suspension Gil had installed hadn’t made the ride much better. Only Drack looked happy, his craggy face split in a huge grin.

  
“New Tuchanka,” he boomed. “Finally, hope for the krogan.” He dealt Ryder a hearty backslap, sending her staggering across the floor, and tromped off to the stern. “Gotta talk to Kesh,” he called back over his shoulder. “There's planning to be done!”

  
“Wait,” said Liam to Ryder, “You handed over the core?”  
Ryder was still rubbing the small of her back, wincing. “Got to do what you can to put things right,” she replied, eyes catching Vetra’s for a microsecond. “I’ve got to talk to Addison about setting up our new colony. Everything on track for tomorrow, Vetra?”

Vetra jumped at her name. Ryder hadn't said it in days. “Yeah,” she stammered. “He's expecting us at noon.”

  
“Perfect,” said Ryder. “Might actually be able to get some rest before then.” She headed out, leaving Vetra alone with Liam once more. Before he could say another word, she bolted for the safety of the armoury, locking the door behind her and sinking to the floor.

  
In the days following her confession, things had been awkward between Vetra and everyone else on the ship. Drack had been preoccupied with issues on New Tuchanka, and the others avoided her, or avoided anything more than small talk. Jaal in particular hadn't said a word to her since hearing the truth, which hurt far more than anything Liam could say. She'd grown to really like Jaal, in spite of his clumsy questions and emotional outbursts. He had every right to hate her, though. Her silence had probably cost him one of his heroes.

  
But if Liam's insults and Jaal’s silence were bad, Ryder’s cold professionalism was almost unbearable. There was no thinking of her as _Sara_ anymore. Vetra had only just uncovered that warm, caring, funny side of her, and losing Sara was more awful than she could ever have thought possible. If this was how it was going to be from now on, Vetra almost hoped that Liam would be right, that Ryder would kick her off the ship as soon as Caulus was no longer a problem. Being stranded on this hellish planet would be better than being constantly reminded of the budding relationship she had lost.  
Tomorrow, she would find out. Until then, there was little use sitting around feeling sorry for herself, when there was still plenty of preparation to be done. Vetra pulled up her comm.

  
“Hey, Kallo,” she said, “Can you come down to the hold? We’ve got to go get our new ride.”

 

*****

 

The shuttle clattered through the air, engine growling loud enough that it was hard for Vetra to hear herself think. An ancient angaran craft rescusitated by some enterprising exile, the shuttle was a key part of the plan to assault the Black Fang stronghold, the Nomad being too obviously an Initiative vehicle for them not to get suspicious.

Unfortunately, the shuttle didn't handle any better, and in the cockpit, Kallo was having a hard time maintaining a smooth flight.

  
“Okay, Kallo,” Ryder yelled over the din, gripping the pilot seat for support, “Go in as fast and low as you can, and get out of there as soon as we’ve jumped. Don't come back for us until we contact you. We don't need you caught up in the crossfire.”

  
“Understood, Pathfinder,” Kallo said through gritted teeth. “This thing would probably fall apart if someone thought about shooting it.”

  
Seated at the left-hand door, Jaal focused on the unfolding terrain, grim and silent, fingering the trigger of his mounted bootleg ML-77. Across from him, Vetra had a missile launcher of her own, also mounted into a turret. She'd wisely refrained from asking the dealer where he’d gotten the guns. A week’s worth of rations had secured her and Jaal five missiles each. They'd need to make every one count.

  
“Base straight ahead,” said Kallo. Vetra looked over his shoulder. Coming over the horizon, one of Elaaden’s strange, wind-scoured rock formations jutted out of the endless dunes, a sky-scraping melange of spires and arches. Beneath its shadow lurked an array of mismatched buildings. With her eyepiece, Vetra could make out Initiative prefabs, Kett structures, even what looked like a repurposed transport ship. A few all-terrain vehicles of varying shapes and sizes were scattered about. Caulus must have trawled the whole continent looking for the building blocks for his little facility.

  
Ryder slipped on her helmet and unslung her rifle, newly modded to fire grenades. They'd all been itching to see _that_ in the field. “Okay guys,” she yelled, “Don't open those doors until we’re right up close. We don't want them to get suspicious.”

  
The base drew nearer and nearer. Vetra no longer needed her eyepiece to make out the guards standing at attention, awaiting the arrival of what they thought was an ally. There was a shuttle pad at the mouth of the base, prepped for the landing they wouldn't need. Clustered at the far end was their welcome party, a small crowd of black-garbed figures, among which one stood tall, lean and unmistakeable.

  
“Man himself came out to greet us,” Vetra yelled. Ryder nodded, cocking her rifle. “Let's give him a big hello.”  
The shuttle swooped in, skimming the tops of the dunes, slowing only a little as its doors finally slid open. Vetra felt the the wind buffet her face as she positioned the gun, right at Caulus and his retinue. They'd realised it was a trap, were already starting to turn and run...

  
Vetra fired.

  
The missile screamed towards the landing pad, leaving a trailing cloud in its wake, Jaal’s missile hurtling after it. They punched into the ground, blasting a storm of dirt and fire and smoke, flinging Black Fangs and debris through the air. One after another the missiles flew like banshees towards their targets, exploding with a force that rattled the oncoming shuttle, swathing the ground in choking soot and flames. A salvo of return fire flew out of the dense smoke, and Kallo banked sharply with a hiss.

  
“Jump now!” Ryder shouted. “Go! _Go!_ ”

  
Vetra leapt into the boiling air, crashing feet-first into the side of a dune, shields flaring up as she half-ran, half-slid down, burning sand cascading around her. She unhitched her rifle and laid into the guards, Ryder at her side lobbing grenades left and right. No need for cover. The smoke and chaos were enough.  
The Black Fangs were falling back, racing to barricade themselves behind overturned crates and burned out vehicles, screaming as Ryder’s grenades obliterated their shelter, leaving Jaal and Vetra to pick them off.

  
A krogan charged Vetra’s left, hammer arcing towards her. She ducked, rolled, came up blasting a concussive shot that hit the krogan in the jaw. He crumpled with a wet screech, and Vetra dashed on through the fire, barely registering the heat, only one target in mind.  
And there he was. Half his face awash in blood, tugging at a pistol locked in the grip of one of his fallen underlings. Vetra levelled her rifle at his head.

  
“Don't move a muscle, Caulus,” she rasped, voice roughened by the smoke. “It's over.”

  
He looked up at her. His good eye glittered. “Nyx,” he growled, “Brought out the big guns, huh? I guess Merriweather’s dead.”

  
“Very,” said Vetra, “Now it's your turn.”

  
“Where’s Vela?” Ryder demanded, emerging through the smoke to stand at Vetra’s side, Jaal close behind, snarling at Caulus.

“You...beast! Tell us where she and the others are, and maybe we’ll let you die quickly!”

  
Caulus stood slowly, hands empty and raised, but his mangled face was bright with triumph. “You want angarans, huh?” he drawled, “Then angarans you'll get. Boys,” he snapped, “Get out here!”

  
“Who are you-” began Ryder, but three figures were already filing out of a prefab a hundred yards off, indistinct in the smoke, each enveloped in a haze of purple energy.

  
“Angarans?” Jaal whispered, just as one figure hurled an arm forward.  
A terrific metallic noise, and a huge shape was hurtling towards them. Vetra hit the dirt, feeling the air crackle with biotic energy as an entire all-terrain vehicle sailed over their heads and smashed into a wall in a shower of sparks and glass.

  
Ryder uncovered her head. “What the _hell_?”

  
Another angara hurled a shockwave of energy. It tore towards them at lightning speed, ripping the earth, catching Jaal and flinging him backwards. He crunched into the ground, and as Ryder scrambled to reach him, Vetra opened fire. The third angara whipped up his hands, creating a biotic shield that repelled her slugs like they were made of paper.

  
“Ryder!” she screamed.

  
The Pathfinder drove a resuscitation needle into Jaal’s neck. “Keep firing!” she screamed back, as Jaal gasped and sat up. She grabbed him by the poncho and tugged. “Come _on_ , you big lug!”

  
The first angara made another violent motion, catapulting a stack of crates towards Vetra. In desperation she hit her jets and shot backwards and up, squeaking out of the way just in time. The crates shattered against a wall, and Vetra fell awkwardly on her back, rolled, and scuttled belly-down to the meagre shelter of an upturned air filter.

  
Ryder wasn't far, huddling with Jaal behind a nearby prefab.“What the hell, Vetra?” she screamed, eyes wide.

Vetra shook her head.  
“I didn't know about this!” she yelled back. “I didn't know he'd actually gotten it to _work_ …”

  
Another shockwave bowled the air filter and Vetra across the sand, knocking the breath from her. Head ringing, she gripped her rifle and fired blindly, staggering to her feet and limping to a nearby boulder.  
“Where did Caulus go?” Vetra screamed into her comm, collapsing behind the boulder.

  
_“Focus on the immediate problem, Vetra,”_ Ryder snapped back. _“These guys first, then the boss.”_

  
Vetra risked a look around the boulder. Ryder and Jaal hadn't moved from the prefab, and the angara were advancing through the smoke towards them, biotic shield in full effect. “How do we do this?” she hissed.

  
_“They're powerful, but slow,”_ said Jaal, still sounding a little dazed. _“Perhaps if we can time it right…”_

  
A huge blast tore through the prefab, wrenching it in half with a horrendous shriek of metal, gouts of flame pouring through the split.

  
“Ryder!” Vetra screamed, hand thrown up to shield her face from the heat of the conflagration. “Jaal!”

No answer. Vetra swore, swiveling around the boulder and venting her shields. Supercharged slugs flew at the angara, but their biotic shield snapped up, and the slugs ricocheted uselessly.

  
The first angara, a big, green brute, made a beckoning motion towards her. Vetra had a split second to realise what he was doing. She dashed to the right an instant before a flying crate atomised against the boulder. She ran full-tilt towards the nearest building, feeling rather than hearing the oncoming shockwave, throwing herself forward as it rent the earth under her feet.

  
“How are they so strong?” she panted as she reached the relative safety of the building. “Ryder! Can you hear me?”

  
Her comm buzzed. **The drug appears to be interacting with their bioelectricity in a way we had not anticipated.**

  
“No shit,” said Vetra, cowering below a window. “Where's Ryder? And how do we stop them?”

  
**Ryder is assisting Jaal. While the drug is in effect, conventional attacks will be futile. I suggest evasive tactics.**

  
“You mean, stay the hell out of their way?” Vetra groaned. “For how long?”  
The window imploded. Vetra cursed, shielding her face from flying glass as the metal siding caved inwards. She bolted, leaping out into the smoky outside air as something exploded in the prefab, searing the back of her neck.

  
**Keep running** , SAM chirped in her ear. **This level of biotic output cannot be maintained indefinitely. They will tire.**

  
From somewhere across the base, gunfire barked, drawing the attention of the angarans. Vetra ducked into a small Kett bunker, grasping her aching sides. Something in her chest had broken, she was sure. Her breath came in shallow huffs, ribs aching too much to breathe properly.

  
A feeble voice startled her.  
“Vetra? Vetra Nyx?”

She stared in shock. Vela de Quofraa was shackled to the far wall, clothes dirtied, face bruised, barely able to open her eyes.

  
Vetra raced to kneel at her side. “Are you okay?” she asked, “Can you stand?”

  
Another biotic explosion sounded outside, and Vela winced as aftershocks rocked the bunker. “Don't worry about me. Those others…They've never been able to maintain for more than fifteen minutes or so. Attack them once they start to slacken.”

  
Vetra aimed at Vela’s chains and fired, severing them with a few shots.  
“Ryder?” she said into her comm, “I found Vela. She's alive. She says the angarans won't last much longer.”

  
Mercifully, Ryder responded. _“I need you out here, Vetra! I've got a plan, but I need them to stop flattening us!”_

  
A quick squeeze of Vela’s shoulder, and Vetra ran back the way she came, shields blinking on. She got out just in time to see one angara tear the roof off a prefab building to her right. With a jolt of alarm, she realised that that must be where the others were sheltering.

  
Vetra didn't waste another second. Venting her shields through her rifle, she darted into the open and fired on the barrier. Her rounds still bounced off harmlessly, but she’d got their attention. As she ran for cover, the attackers hurled bolts of energy in unison. A shockwave caught Vetra in the side, driving the air from her lungs. She fell, clattering against the ground, gasping from the crippling pain in her chest. With blurry eyes she saw the green angara gather himself for a finishing strike. And then it happened. The third angara faltered, sinking to his knees, and the barrier flickered and died.

  
“Ryder!” Vetra choked out, “Whatever you're planning, do it now!”

  
Behind the angarans, the small, lithe form of the Pathfinder clambered up the side of the burning prefab and leapt off the roof, jet-pack blasting her over their heads. The green one turned, but not fast enough. A flicker of purple, and Ryder charged. With a blinding flash of light she struck him full in the chest, bowling him over. The last one raised a frantic hand already crackling with energy, but Jaal shot, hitting him in the back. He fell wailing as Ryder rocketed away with a salvo of grenades.

  
Not one hit their mark. Another burst of biotic energy scattered them as the third one rallied. Vetra flinched as the grenades exploded overhead.  
And then, nothing. The smoke cleared to reveal the three angara slumped on the ground, energy finally spent. Vetra relaxed with a sigh of relief. Just then, she heard an engine rumbling overhead. She looked up just in time to see a shuttle vanish into the clouds. “Shit!” she choked out, “He’s getting away!”

  
“SAM’s on it, Vetra,” said Ryder, walking over and offering her a hand. “We’ll track him as far as we can.” Her armour was scuffed and sooty, but she looked unhurt. Vetra grasped the proffered hand and let Ryder pull her to her feet, trying not to cry out at the fresh wave of pain.

  
“What is this madness?” Jaal yelled. “Why fight for a man who has harmed your fellows?”  
He was advancing on the weakened angarans, walking with a pronounced limp. “What did he offer you?” he demanded. “What reward was worth sullying yourselves like this? Helping a man who abducted a heskaarl!” He spat on the smouldering ground.

  
“The red sand…” the third angara groaned. “Without it...like a fire under our skin...you cannot begin to imagine…”

  
Jaal’s lip curled in disgust. “You betrayed your people for a _drug_.”  
Ryder pulled off her helmet, crouched by the one bleeding out into the sand and pulled up his sleeve. The dull shine of a bioamp was clearly visible along his arm.  
“Wow,” she said, “This is top of the line. Tann wasn't stingy, for once. Doesn’t quite account for all that power, though. I've never seen anything like it.”

  
“Skin on fire,” Vetra muttered. “Heard something like that from the Kadara captive.” _Spirits_ , her ribs hurt.

  
“Lexi should be able to run some tests and find out more,” said Ryder, straightening. “Let's secure them and grab Vela.” She put a hand to her comm. “Kallo, bring the shuttle in.”  
Vetra propped herself against a large storage tank, too weary and pained to stay upright.  
“Vela’s in that bunker,” she wheezed, pointing. Jaal set off immediately.

Vetra closed her eyes. She'd come so close to getting the bastard…  
She felt a light touch on her wrist. It was Ryder, holding her gently, looking at her with more emotion than she had in days.

  
“You okay?” she asked, in that achingly familiar, gentle tone. “Things got pretty hairy at the end there.”

  
Vetra shrugged, too surprised at first to speak. “I’ll live,” she replied. “I'm mostly mad that he got away again.”

“We _will_ get him,” said Ryder, frowning at the defeated angarans. ‘Hopefully before he can do that to anyone else.” She let go of Vetra’s wrist and headed off after Jaal.  
Vetra let herself relax against the tank. Today was still a victory, she reminded herself. For now, she could be happy with that.

 

*****

 

Lexi secured the bandage around Vetra’s chest with deft hands, then stepped back to admire her handiwork.

  
“Be gentle on those ribs for the next week,” she cautioned. “You were lucky it was only four fractures.”

  
Vetra dressed carefully, watching Lexi bend over Vela’s prone form in the other bed. The heskaarl was under light sedation, sleeping soundly. Miraculously, there was no evidence that she had been given red sand or any other drug. “Just sleep and sunlight deprivation,” Lexi had said. A couple days of sleep and UV lamps on full blast, and she'd be fine.

  
The _Tempest_ was still in orbit around Elaaden while Ryder figured out their next move. Vela would need to be reunited with her Resistance battalion, and then they would have to stem whatever political damage had been caused by the abductions. Caulus had dropped off the map again, but he couldn't hide forever. And when he surfaced...well. Ryder hadn't shown any signs of getting ready to kick Vetra out, so she supposed they’d continue to go after him together.

  
She finished dressing, thanked Lexi and left the medbay, switching on her omnitool as she walked back to the armoury. It was immediately bombarded by a slew of email notifications. _You go offline for one day,_ Vetra groused, a message from Kesh catching her attention. She opened it, read the first line and stopped in her tracks.

  
Three seconds later she was sprinting along the corridor in the opposite direction, scaling the ladder and bursting into the cockpit, skidding to a halt as Kallo, Suvi and Ryder goggled at her.

  
“It's Sid,” Vetra panted. “Tann caught her snooping. He's going to have her exiled.”


	9. Whistleblowers

Ryder stilled. “What?”

“An email from Kesh,” Vetra spluttered, “She got caught doing...something. I don’t know. It was brief. She’s trying to stall Tann but he’s set on kicking her off the Nexus within the week.”

Ryder’s jaw twitched, and she turned to the cluster map, holding her hand out over the glowing hologram. “Kallo, I’m setting a course for the Nexus.”

Kallo sat up in his seat. “But Ryder - “

“It’s alright,” Ryder cut him off, “Everything else can wait. We’re going to the Nexus.”

Kallo nodded, and a moment later Vetra felt the floor shift under her feet as the ship veered away from Elaaden, preparing to break free of its orbit.

Ryder stepped back from the map and brushed past Vetra on her way out. Vetra followed, stuttering her thanks. But the Pathfinder waved it away.

“It’s about time we confronted Tann,” she said, making a beeline for Jaal’s room. Vetra found herself following, for what reason, she wasn’t sure.

Inside, Jaal was tending to the only survivor of their last battle. His name was Gerat, they’d discovered. He was laid out in a corner of the room on a mattress, a makeshift set of lamps propped around him for sustenance. There was no point restraining him. He was caught in the grip of a fever, his skin clammy and drained, eyes moving wildly beneath closed lids, pale lips mouthing a stream of silent words. Where the skin of his arm fused with the amp was darkly bruised and infected-looking.

“No change?” asked Ryder, compassion etched into her face. A few hours ago, this man had been trying to kill her, but now she seemed pained, watching him suffer. It was strange, but so very like her.

Jaal’s lips twisted grimly. “None,” he said, sponging sweat from Gerat’s brow. “Lexi wasn’t able to do much for him. Her knowledge of our biology is still...limited.”

“We need to get him to one of your doctors,” said Ryder. But Jaal shook his head.

“No,” he replied, looking up at them. “As much as it pains me to admit it, I am...beginning to see why Vela must have wanted to keep this a secret. Despite the physical toll of the drug, and its...hmm...short-lived effects...there are those of my people who would leap at the chance to use such power against the Kett, or against you. Aksuul is still intent on wiping you out, for one. Allowing widespread knowledge of red sand and its effects on us could be... disastrous for us all.”

“What then?” asked Vetra, crossing her long arms. “We just let him die?” To kill someone in battle was one thing, but to let a helpless man die in their custody...that was something Vetra never hoped to stoop to.

“We’re on the way to the Nexus,” said Ryder. “The angara there are friendly, and hopefully level-headed. Maybe we can trust them to keep quiet.”

“Maybe,” said Jaal darkly. “If he lives that long. We might end up having to put him with the others.”

Vetra shuddered, remembering the corpses of the other two angara, lying frozen in a food storage container in the _Tempest’s_ hold. It was creepy having a pair of dead guys just lying around like that, but their potential as research specimens was too valuable, and dangerous, to leave behind.

“That really was something, though,” said Ryder, studying Gerat with a scientist’s eye. “It was like their bioelectricity somehow managed to let them channel a ton of biotic energy all at once. Like opening the floodgates of a dam.”

“But then they drained all the quicker,” Jaal added. “And in the process, their bioelectric field warps and weakens. Effective, but I wonder how many times they can do it before it kills them.”

“Let’s hope we can catch Caulus before we have to find out,” said Ryder.

Vetra slipped out of the room, leaving Jaal and Ryder to their speculation. She didn’t have the stomach for it right now. Not when Sid was… She blew out a ragged breath and squared her shoulders, refusing to make eye contact with Liam as she slipped past the ship’s central station to the hold. Time to do what she could to keep Sid safe until they got to her.

 

*****

  


The Tempest had hardly finished docking procedures before Vetra hurtled down the ramp and out into the walkways of the Nexus. She zeroed in on the tram stop, barely noticing as she cut off a number of startled civilians. Reaching the stop, she jabbed furiously at the call button. “Come on, come _on,_ ” she muttered.

“Vetra!”

She didn’t need to look to see who it was. A moment later, hurried footsteps reached her side.

“Vetra!” Ryder wheezed between gulps of air, “I asked you to wait for me!”

“He’s got my little sister in a cage,” Vetra hissed, beginning to pace in front of the gleaming door, “If anyone’s put their hands on her, I’ll -”

“She’s safe,” Ryder said, “Kesh is making sure of that, remember? Don’t panic.”

Easy for Ryder to say. Vetra had been panicking since they’d left Elaaden. The entire trip over, she’d been holed up in her room, splitting the time between conferring with Kesh and making backup plans for if the worst came to pass. An Exile’s options were limited. Eos? The few non-Initiative colonies there were barely scraping by. Kadara was off limits for obvious reasons. Drack had offered to find her somewhere on New Tuchanka, but even that place was still so volatile…

The tram arrived. They boarded, it took off, and Vetra resumed her pacing while Ryder sat off to one side, studying the map intently. Things hadn’t gotten any less uncomfortable between them. That moment of connection at the base had been an anomaly, not a turning point. But despite the rift in their personal relationship, despite having a million other pressing things to do, Ryder hadn’t hesitated for a second to set a course for the Nexus. She’d made Sid a priority without question, without asking for anything in return. It...didn’t make any sense to Vetra. She was desperately grateful of course, but the way things were between them, she found it difficult to say even that.

At last, they arrived. Security HQ was just around the corner. Vetra walked quickly, long legs forcing Ryder to jog to keep up. Kandros looked up as she strode in, but she brushed straight past to the plexiglass cell in the corner, pressing her slender hands against it and calling to the huddled form inside.

“Sid! It’s me!”

Sid looked up, brightening immediately, and got to her feet, matching Vetra’s hands against the glass with her own. “Vetra! And...Pathfinder Ryder! That was quick.”

“We came as soon as we could,” said Ryder. “What happened?”

Sid scratched her neck sheepishly. “Tried pulling the same trick as I did with Merriweather, using a remote terminal to hack Tann’s email. Turns out the Initiative has way tighter security. Who’d have guessed, huh? They found me in minutes.”

Vetra sighed. “Did you find anything, at least?”

“Nothing. Too much encryption, not enough time.” Sid lowered her gaze to her feet. “Got myself Exiled and I don’t even have anything to show for it.”

“You’re not getting Exiled,” said Ryder. “We’ve got evidence against Tann. Vetra, let’s go get Kesh.”

“Just tried that myself,” said Drack, stumping into the prison with even less regard for Kandros, who shook his head and muttered something about entitled Pathfinder crewmates. Drack thumbed across Operations towards Tann’s office. “She’s already in there with Addison.”

“Damn it,” Vetra hissed. She turned back to Sid. “You hold tight, okay? We’re gonna get you out of there.”

“I know you will!” said Sid, subvocals giving away her uncertainty. “Hope your evidence will be enough.”

 

*****

 

Leaning against the wall by Tann’s office was an unexpected figure. Raeka, splendid in her red and white armour, looking stately and bored. She smiled at the sight of the approaching Pathfinder contingent, coming forward to grasp Ryder’s hand.

“Good to see you all again,” she said, greeting Vetra next. When she offered her hand to Drack, he responded with folded arms and a sneer. Lips tightening in discomfort, Raeka clasped her hands behind her back and turned to Ryder.

“Kesh and Addison came by a few minutes ago,” she said. “Tann asked me to step outside. I’m not sure what could be so serious that a Pathfinder wasn’t allowed to listen in.”

Vetra and Ryder shared a glance. Vetra nodded. Raeka was a good ally to have, level-headed and honourable. She’d go to her grave without saying so to Drack, but she was glad the Salarian Pathfinder had survived the Archon’s ship.

Ryder turned back to Raeka. “Would you like to find out?” she asked. “I promise it’ll be more interesting than kicking your heels out here.”

Now four strong, they entered the office. Tann’s aide leaned over the desk. “No visitors at the moment, please! The Director is in a meeting.”

“Trust me,” Drack growled, stopping eye-to-eye with the aide. “He wants to see us.”

“Who’s down there?” came Tann’s voice from the office above. “Jaeji! I told you not to admit _anybody!"_

But Vetra was already rounding the corner, storming up the ramp with fire in her eyes, Ryder and the others right behind her. At the top, Addison stared at the oncoming party in mild alarm, while Kesh looked relieved.

Incensed by Vetra’s insubordination, Tann stood tall and imperious behind his desk. “Get _out_!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the desk. “This is a private discussion!”

Vetra walked up to the desk and slammed her own hands on it just as hard, leaning forward until her face was inches from Tann’s. “You let my sister go, _right now_!” she snarled.

Tann stared her down with narrowed eyes. “Your sister was caught red-handed. She’s a threat to Nexus security. You’re lucky I’m choosing to Exile her instead of letting her rot.”

Kesh put a hand on Vetra’s shoulder, gently pulling her back from the desk. “And why _was_ she hacking you?” she asked, “You still haven’t answered me that.”

Tann’s face scrunched in indignation. “She’s a spy, for all I know. Sympathetic to the Outcasts, or some other rabble. She won’t talk.”

Ryder stepped forward, positioning herself next to Vetra with arms akimbo. “You can’t think of _any_ reason why she might be investigating you?”

“Investigating…” said Tann, blinking. “What are you trying to insinuate, Pathfinder?”

He hadn’t made the connection, Vetra realised. Did that mean…

“Really?” Ryder asked angrily. That same rare anger that she’d shown on Kadara was back, stronger than ever. “You can’t think, at all, why there might be any cause to investigate, say, issues concerning you handing over weapons to Exile gangs?”

Tann’s eyes shot open again, but before he could reply, Addison interjected, blanching beneath her powdered cheeks. “What weapons? What did you hear and where?”

“Yes, Pathfinder,” said Tann, attention flickering rapidly between the two women, “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Come on, Tann,” Vetra growled. “Don’t play dumb. You sent me off to Kadara with a set of biotic amps to hand over to the Collective. You were helping them experiment on angara.”

“Don’t try to deny it,” Ryder added. “We have proof.”

A gasp from Raeka. From Tann, a look equal parts shock and fury. Out of the corner of her eye, Vetra saw Addison’s shoulders slacken in...relief? How bizarre. But before she could think any further on it, Tann replied.

“Experiment on the _angara?"_ he snapped. “We barely knew of their existence when you left the Nexus. And Dinal is no Exile, only posing as one. He is a vital field operative, responsible for protecting Nexus interests on Kadara.”

“It’s true,” said Raeka, looking troubled. “I knew Dinal back on Sur’Kesh, and Tann has disclosed his role in Initiative field operations to me. But I wasn’t aware of this amp issue.”

Drack grunted in displeasure. ”Salarians keeping secrets among themselves? Colour me surprised.”

“Is that why someone tried to assassinate me on Kadara?” Vetra asked, “To protect Dinal’s cover? Or to stop me from exposing your plot to get rid of Sloane Kelly?”

“And to do it,” Ryder added, “by turning angara into red sand-addicted supersoldiers?”

Tann shook his head. “Again with the angara conspiracy? And I know nothing of any assassination plot. Yes, I had amps sent to Dinal. Yes, I consider Sloane a threat to our continued survival, and wish to see her deposed. There isn’t a single person in HQ who feels otherwise. But those amps were requisitioned by one of our field agents, for our soldiers. That is the extent of this intrigue.”

Ryder pulled up her omnitool. “Back on the _Tempest_ , I have three angara fitted with amps whose serial numbers match ones you personally requested from storage.” Addison, Raeka and Tan’s omnitools pinged as they received a set of files from Ryder. “One of them is alive, and he’ll be able to talk soon. What do you suppose he’ll tell us?”

“The same thing I will.”

It was Vela, coming up the ramp slowly, her arm slung over Jaal’s shoulder. He guided her carefully up to the desk, and the others stepped back to make room on the overcrowded platform. “I saw it. I saw my brothers and sisters treated like lab animals. I saw them tortured, dying. I saw others fitted with your devices. I even saw your faithful Dinal, once, testing them like trained beasts.” She stopped just short of the desk, reeling with the effort of moving her weakened body.

“Got you dead to rights,” said Drack, relieving Jaal of his post, slipping a thick, supportive arm under Vela’s armpits. “Vela here is a Resistance hero. You wanna tell us why one of your agents is passing weapons to the gang that kidnapped her?”

“There...there is some mistake somewhere,” said Tann, backing away in horror. His back hit the display screen, and it shook, nearly falling off its supports. “Dinal wouldn’t have done something like this.”

“He was always a loose cannon,” said Raeka. “I told you that putting so much trust in him was unwise, Tann.”

Ryder’s face bore a raptorial intensity that Vetra had only ever seen on her when she was sighting down an enemy soldier. “Show us all your correspondence with Dinal, and tell us where to find him. We’ll find out if you’re as ignorant of the truth as you say you are. And let Vetra’s sister go free.”

Tann looked wildly between the accusers arrayed in front of him. “That’s impossible!” he spluttered.

“I agree,” said Addison, stepping closer to him, arms folded over her chest. “I thank you all for bringing this to our attention, but this is an internal matter and will be dealt with accordingly. As for Miss Nyx,” her attention shifted to Vetra, “No matter her intentions, she compromised our security. We can’t have her snooping anymore. She goes.”

A guttural sound rumbling in her throat, Vetra made to leap across the table at Addison, only Ryder’s strong hand about her elbow stopping her.

“No,” said Ryder, straining to hold Vetra back, “I don’t trust either of you to do this properly. If you won’t tell me what I need to know, I’m going straight to the angaran ambassador. We’ll see how he feels about his people being turned into lab rats and superweapons. We’ll have the whole Resistance hunting down Dinal and the Collective.”

Behind her, Vela stiffened. “Pathfinder…”

Addison’s eyes somehow managed to bulge even more than usual. “You wouldn’t,” she hissed. “You’d be flushing your own diplomacy efforts down the toilet. You’d set us back indefinitely.”

“I’m not going to let you stand in the way of justice,” said Ryder, grip softening as Vetra finally relented. “And I won’t let you punish a kid who was trying to do the right thing.”

“Just do what she asks, Foster,” said Kesh. “If your agent’s compromised himself, he has to be taken care of. Ryder can end this quickly and discreetly.”

Addison and Tann exchanged glances. Tann gulped nervously. “I’ll release my emails to you, and I’ll give you Dinal,” he said. “But Sidera Nyx must be Exiled. I refuse to tolerate such an obvious threat to the smooth running of the Initiative.”

Before Vetra could react, Ryder tightened her hold on her elbow again. “No deal. Sid stays, or I go to the ambassador.”

She would do it, Vetra knew. Sara Ryder was many things, but she wasn’t a bluffer. It was why she was so miserable at poker. She was on the verge of blowing this whole thing open, just to protect Sid.

“Alright!” Tann snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “She can stay! But you’d better believe we’ll be watching her.” He moved to his terminal and opened up his email account,  punching keys furiously. “I’m forwarding all correspondence between myself and Dinal to Kesh, and to you. I don’t know exactly where on Kadara he is, but I’m sure that between all of us, we can track him down.” Emails forwarded, he thrust a skinny arm at the door. “Now get out of my office.”

Drack snorted as the group began to file out. “Try watching your agents instead.”

Ryder finally let her hand drop from Vetra’s elbow, and she shot Tann one last dark look before turning to go. Vetra stayed where she was. “Don’t mess with Sid,” she growled at Tann. “ _I_ asked her to look into you. She’s not a threat on her own.”

“And you?” asked Tann, chest swelling in defiance, “I thought you were reliable. And discreet. Don’t think I haven’t gotten wind of your less-than-authorised dealings on the Nexus. You can expect your business to be much harder from now on.”

The vindictive son of a...Acting like _she_ was the one at fault. Clamping her jaw shut, Vetra spun on her heel and left before her anger could overtake her. Let Tann try to mess with her, she decided. It was a small price to pay for justice.

 

*****

 

Sid flung her arms around Vetra’s neck, squeezing tight. “Be safe, Vee! Tell Ryder thanks again!”

“Ow,” said Vetra, easing Sid off. “Ribs, remember?”

“Sorry,” said Sid, abashed. “Seriously though. Tell her thanks. Oh, and remind her about those wrecked ships.”

“Remind her yourself,” said Vetra. “Aren’t you guys buddies now?”

Once again, the sisters were facing each other on the _Tempest’s_ landing pad, with minutes to go before the ship took off. The artificial sunlight was dimming for the day, casting a blue pallor over the docks. The Pathfinder crew had barely stayed a few hours. Meridian was waiting, the clock ticking against them.

“Vetra!”

It was Vela, walking without aid now, looking a lot healthier. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you yet.”

“Thank me?” said Vetra in surprise.

Vela smiled. “You rescued me, didn’t you?” She reached out and shook Vetra’s hand eagerly. “I‘ll be staying for a while, to help our scientists here study Gerat and the others. Now that there is proof that we can be biotically augmented, it’s only a matter of time before the Roekaar or some other hostile group learn of it. We must be prepared for if the worst comes to pass.”

“Hey, Vela,” said Sid .“If you don’t mind me asking, why weren’t you experimented on?”

Vela made a face. “After what happened with poor Navos, Caulus was hesitant to try his drugs on any...hostile subjects. He wanted to convert me before he operated on me. He spent hours harassing me, trying to convince me that his drugs and his tech were the only way for the angara to regain control. He went on and on about how, in the _Jaravaon Imsaf_ , his father was manufacturing red sand so he could overthrow a woman much like your Sloane Kelly.” She looked pointedly at Vetra. “That he would have succeeded, if you hadn’t killed him.”

“A woman like Sloane?” Sid asked, “You mean Aria? She was way more of an asshole. And Otho was an evil drug slinging bastard, not some hero.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Vela replied, lips quirking in amusement. “I’m thankful that you got rid of him, Vetra. Even if it meant that we have to deal with his brute son trying to carry on his legacy in Andromeda.”

Gil’s head popped out of the Tempest’s open hatch. “Hey, Vetra! Time to go! Enough teary goodbyes for one visit, yeah?”

“Ass,” said Vetra affectionately. She gave Sid one last shoulder squeeze. “Don’t get into any more trouble, hear me? I don’t want to have to drop everything to come save you a _third_ time.”

“Oh, I’ve had enough excitement for a while,” said Sid. She and Vela waved as Vetra loped up the ramp, and a few minutes later, the _Tempest_ set out once more.

 

*****

 

Vetra scowled at the door. A day since they’d left the Nexus, and she still hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to Ryder. There was so much to say. Where would she even start? She huffed, holding up her closed fist, steeling herself. _‘Thank you for saving my sister’ would be a good start, I guess._

She knocked.

“Come in,” Ryder said from the other side. Vetra did, walking in to find Ryder cross-legged on her bed, propped up against the pillows with a datapad in hand, its orange light glinting on the soft contours of her face. She looked up at Vetra, a small smile on her lips. “I thought it might be you.”

She turned off the datapad, leaned forward and patted the far corner of the bed in invitation. Her arms were bared to the shoulder, and Vetra found it hard not to stare at them as she sat down. Remembering the purpose of her visit, she looked away quickly, unable to control the nervous twitching of her mandibles. There was a piece of lint on the blanket. Vetra picked at it with long fingers as she steadied herself. Ryder waited, patient as always.

Finally, Vetra found her words. “I’m here to say a lot of things,” she started slowly, “Beginning with thank you. For helping Sid. You had no reason to help me, after everything.”

“Vetra.”

She looked up. Ryder’s face was serious, brow furrowed, lips stretched into a frown. “I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d look out for her.”

Vetra’s browplates drew together in puzzlement. “Well, yeah, but that was before…you know.”

Ryder’s nostrils fluttered as she let out a sharp, frustrated exhalation. “I was mad at you, Vetra,” she said. “Still am. You broke my trust. You kept things from me.” She looked away, biting her lip. When she spoke again, there was a tremor in her voice. “Why is it so hard for you to trust me? To let me help you? What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing!” Vetra blurted, twisting to face her. “You didn’t do anything. _I_ did. I’ve done so many terrible things, Ryder. I’ve hurt innocent people. I’ve caused so much needless suffering for others, all for my own selfish reasons. I thought I could be different, in a different galaxy. But I came all the way here, and I’m still the same. I’m just...,” she took a deep breath, “ _not a good person._ But I wanted you to think I was.”

Ryder said nothing for a long moment, only watching Vetra steadily, teeth worrying her bottom lip. Then it happened. Ryder shifted, scooting along the mattress until she was flush against Vetra’s body, and wrapped her arms about her, mindful of her tender ribs. Her head came to rest on Vetra’s shoulder, and though Vetra’s breath was caught in her chest, she could smell the herbal scent of her shampoo. It was strange and comforting in a way Vetra had never known. Not that hugs between turians were unsatisfying, but without the constraints of armour and bone plates, Ryder’s body melded against her, flowing into all her angles in a way a turian never could.

“I still think you’re a good person,” Ryder murmured. Her skin was hot, radiating warmth through all of Vetra’s protective layers. “I think you did the best you could. I think you did whatever you had to to survive. And I know you’re doing whatever you can to fix things.” She sighed, hot breath spilling over Vetra’s collar. “Yesterday, I almost kicked off a diplomatic crisis to help Sid. I didn’t care about the repercussions. That’s what it’s like for you, right? That you’d do anything for the people most important to you, no matter what. I don’t know if that makes us bad people. I don’t care. All I know is, I’d rather fight a thousand biotic angara than break my promise to you.”

Vetra swallowed a lump in her throat, and moved her arms carefully until she could place them gingerly around Ryder’s waist. “I’m sorry, Ryder,” she mumbled.

Ryder tapped her shoulder. “Sara. Don’t make me have to keep asking, please.”

“I’m sorry, Sara,” Vetra repeated. “For not telling you. I do trust you. I’m glad you’re at my side.”

Sara gave her a light squeeze. “Same here.”

Vetra closed her eyes, letting her head come to rest atop Sara’s. Maybe now, she thought, she could finally let herself believe that a better time was coming. That _she_ could be better. With Sara in her arms, anything seemed possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this game ever gets DLC, my most fervent wish will be that there's a decision to off the Initiative leaders ME1-style. That and the addition of volus obviously.


	10. High Noon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out things are going to get pretty wildly out of canon. Brace yourselves :O

Kadara’s swirling yellow and green half-disc hung in space like a spoiled omelette, growing larger and larger as the Tempest approached. Vetra stood on the bridge, arms folded over her freshly-healed chest, watching the planet swell until it consumed the window.

“Standby,” said Kallo, “Docking in five.”

Two weeks since the meeting with Tann. Two weeks of trawling the extranet for clues to Caulus’ whereabouts, sandwiched between a never-ending spate of missions. The Black Fangs had been wiped out, it was true, but Caulus still had the amps, the formula for red sand and the proof of what an angara enhanced with both could achieve. Now, the search had led them back to Kadara. Tann’s last correspondence from Dinal had confirmed that he was still deeply embedded within the Collective’s ranks. Find him, Vetra knew, and he would lead them straight to Caulus.

Sloane had agreed to let the Tempest dock, on one condition. Before anything else, Sara was to help her with something relating to the Collective. Something urgent. They’d made their move, it seemed. Sara had agreed without hesitation. All the more likely that they’d find who they were looking for.

As the Kadaran badlands swept beneath them, Suvi swivelled in her chair, green eyes clear and lovely. “Good luck out there, Vetra. Crack some heads.”

“Thanks, Suvi.” Vetra left quickly, trying to ignore the little shiver in her spine. That lilt in Suvi’s voice still got her every time. _Sorry Sara_ , she thought to herself as she headed for the hold, _though I know you dig her accent too_.

In the hold, Sara and Drack were getting suited up, while Gil was busy with some last-minute tinkering on the Nomad. Sara grinned up at Vetra as she secured her gloves, and all thoughts of Suvi fled Vetra’s mind like paper in the wind. Spirits, but she was lovely. Since that last talk in Sara’s room, tasks and crises had come at them so thick and fast that Vetra had barely seen Sara with her helmet off. Now she couldn’t help but sneak glances at the Pathfinder as she geared up herself.

“Hope this doesn’t get too ugly,” Sara said as the sound of the engines sank to a low purr, signalling their arrival. “I’ve been trying to get Reyes to help us out, but he hasn’t replied to a single email.”

Ah, yes. That smuggler that Vetra had seen for a fleeting moment months ago. She knew Sara had struck up some kind of strange friendship with him, but wasn’t very clear on the details.

“Pity,” she said as the whine of the ramp’s hydraulics started up. “I’d been looking forward to meeting him. Anyone that _you_ like must be worth getting to know.”

Sara cocked a good-humoured eyebrow as sunlight spilled into the hold and over her face. “I like to think so,” she said, with a look that set Vetra’s heart racing. Sara tucked her helmet under one arm, winked, and strode down the ramp. Drack followed, heavy feet thumping against the floor, shaking his big head as he passed Vetra. “Like a pair of lovestruck whelps,” he rumbled. Vetra swallowed, still slightly flustered. _Lovestruck, huh?_ Even now, the idea of Sara liking her _that_ way still felt surreal.

“Heard from Raeka?” she asked Sara as they waited for the dock door to open. It always took _ages._  Did nothing in this run-down town work right?

Sara pursed her lips. “Yes. She said Dinal sent no word of a plan to attack any of Sloane’s people. If this is his doing, it’s not Initiative-sanctioned.”

“And we got no way to know what he’s planning next,” Drack grunted as the door finally creaked open. They headed straight for Sloane’s headquarters.

“I’ve got a feeling we’ll find out soon enough,” said Sara. “And where Dinal is, we might find Caulus. Maybe we can get two birds with one stone today.”

 

*****

 

The Nomad rumbled towards Sloane’s meeting point at full speed. Sara’s handling hadn’t improved a bit, but Vetra was too tense to care much. She stared grimly ahead at the approaching cave, wondering just who and what would be waiting for them inside.

“There’s no way this isn’t a trap,” she muttered.

Across from her, Drack bared his teeth in a hopeful grin. “I’ll be disappointed if it isn’t,” he said. “They beat up Sloane Kelly’s boyfriend. Can’t think of a better way to piss her off and start a war.”

Sloane was already there, wearing an expression that said that someone was about to get their head stoved in. “Took your sweet time,” she said as the Nomad’s hatch flipped open, “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

The cave was cool and damp, and full of lurking shadows. Vetra fingered her trigger nervously, scanning every nook and cranny for enemies. Ahead, Sara marched forward determinedly, keeping pace with Sloane. As they went deeper inside, the cave floor widened, until they found themselves standing in a vaulted chamber. It was less dark than Vetra had expected. There must be an opening somewhere on the other end…

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

A male human melted out of the darkness. Youngish, dark-haired, with a shifty grin. Vetra’s pulse sped up. She’d seen him before.

“Reyes?” Sara spluttered.

Sloane’s lip curled in disgust. “I’m here for the Charlatan, not some third-rate smuggler.”

Sara scowled. Even in the gloom, Vetra could see her hand shaking. “They’re one and the same,” she said, anger bleeding through her voice.

A smirk twisted Reyes’ shadowed face. “Surprise.”

Sara took a step towards him with fists balled, “This whole time, you’ve been _lying_ to me.”

“Not about _everything_.” He stepped into the light, his face finally coming into full view. “You know who I really am.”

“If you’re the Charlatan,” said Vetra, “Then you know where Dinal Imor is.”

Reyes looked her up and down. “I know you. You were there the last time I saw Vela de Quofraa.” Their eyes burned into each other with a cold intensity. _I know you_. Smugglers. Survivors. They recognised their own.

His gaze broke after a few agonising seconds, and he turned back to Sara. “As for Dinal, shouldn’t you know where your Nexus stooge is? We threw him out months ago.”

Drack grunted. “Looks like Dinal was playing Tann even more than we thought.”

Vetra narrowed her eyes, ignoring the sinking, disappointed feeling in her belly. Another dead end. “Next you’re gonna tell me you weren’t working with the Black Fangs.”

Reyes threw his head back and laughed. “The Black Fangs? Those petty gangsters? I’m a bad man, my dear turian, but I don’t deal in drugs.” His eyes flitted to Sloane. “Which is more than I can say for _some_ here.”

Sloane snarled. “Enough! You said you wanted to sort things out. How?”

 

*****

 

Nose wrinkled, Sara watched Sloane expire on the cave floor, her scarred head lolling in a widening pool of blood. She said, “You’d better not make me regret this, Reyes.”

The new leader of Kadara Port holstered his pistol as he strode over. He nudged Sloane with the toe of his boot to make sure she was dead. “I won’t. I promise, I had nothing to do with whatever Dinal is up to. But I’ll gladly help you track him down, if you like.” He turned and began barking orders into his radio as a large shuttle pulled up at the cave entrance.

“That’s it?” Drack complained, kicking a pebble like a sulky child, “What a let down. I’m going back to the Nomad. Maybe there’ll be some critters I can shoot.” He lumbered off, his yellow bulk quickly disappearing into the gloom.

Vetra sidled up to Sara, anxiously watching the conflict bubble under the skin of her face. She placed a three-fingered hand on the small of her back and said in a low voice, “Sara…”

Sara touched a hand to Vetra’s hip, briefly. “It’s alright. Later.”

Vetra could guess at the problem. Sloane had been a shitstorm waiting to break out, responsible for more than her fair share of misery and suffering, but an undignified death like that...even she had deserved better. And the man who had given her that death...well. They would have to trust him to treat them with more honour. From what she’d seen of this Reyes character so far, Vetra wasn’t hopeful.

“Tonight, Kadara Port is ours!” said Reyes, glowing with triumph, to a loud cheer from his men. When he caught Vetra’s eye, he sobered. “I promise you. If it’s Dinal you want, Dinal you’ll get. Anything for as good a friend as Sara has been to me.”

“Sloane had a bounty on him,” said Vetra, not bothering to mask her hostility. “But I guess if she found anything out, she won’t be telling us now.”

“A minor setback, I assure you,” Reyes purred. “We’ll get your man. In the meantime, please excuse me.” He tossed a cavalier grin at Sara. “Come see me once the dust has settled. There’s a lot of business to discuss.”

They watched him hop onto his shuttle with his men and take off into the sunset. Vetra looked down at Sloane. “We’re not just gonna leave her here, are we?”

Sara sighed. “We can’t exactly throw her in the back of the Nomad. I’ll radio for someone to come get her.” She bit her lip. “Kaetus is going to be devastated, once he wakes up.”

“Your ‘friend’ is probably going to turn on us the second he has enough power, you know.”

“You don’t know him, Vetra. He may have lied to us about this, but there’s good in him.”

“The man calls himself the Charlatan,” said Vetra bitterly, “I don’t see how he could make it clearer that he’s not to be trusted.” _At least I was never so_ **_blatant_** _._

“Vetra.” Sara was facing her head on, the dying sunlight glinting in her eyes, eyebrows lifted meaningfully. “I gave _you_ another chance. You haven’t given me any reason to regret it. Trust me when I do the same for him.” She knew. She knew, somehow, that when Vetra had looked at Reyes she’d seen some of the worst parts of herself reflected back. Had probably drawn the comparison herself, long ago. And what could Vetra say to counter her? _He’s worse than I am?_ Debateable. _Unlike me, he only lied to you to help himself?_ Barely a half-truth. _I’d never betray you because I’m half in love with you?_ A fact that Vetra was still barely able to admit to herself, let alone to Sara.

She sagged, defeated. “Alright.”

Sara smiled and inclined her head towards the exit. “Come on. Let’s go get Drack before he finds too much trouble.”

 

*****

 

Days later, a fresh outcrop of civilisation was beginning to blossom across a rocky Kadara basin. With Reyes Vidal’s blessing and aid, Initiative settlers had set up a neat cluster of sparkling new prefabs, and stocked them with enough tools and tech to keep their scientists busy for years to come.

Addison had raged. A science outpost? On _Kadara_? Was Sara mad, or just that naive? But, as the most hospitable of the new worlds, Kadara was ripe for agriculture, as Sara had insisted. Let the new King of Kadara Port handle security. It was time to start growing things.

So, the science outpost had gone up, and Vetra had busied herself for days with the onerous task of supplying the new settlers. Onerous, because Tann had actually followed through on his threat to shut down Vetra’s back channels. Most of her Nexus contacts weren’t even responding to her anymore.

Somehow, she was managing. Today she was overseeing the arrival of a flock of scientists, fresh out of cryo and brimming with ideas. They were going to turn this wasteland into a thriving breadbasket, they were saying. With the infighting on Kadara out of the way for now, they could run their experiments on terra, flora and fauna in relative safety. There were even turian scientists, eager to tackle the task of growing dextro food in a levo-based biosphere.

Vetra moved among their cargo, scanning barcodes and checking off items on her datapad, humming cheerfully to herself. A future for the turians after all, she thought warmly, and she was a part of it. Perhaps once things were up and running, she could move Sid out here, where Tann and Addison couldn’t touch her.

“Hey, Vetra.”

The voice extinguished her good mood like a bag of ice on a campfire. She sighed and lowered her datapad. “What is it, Liam?”

Framed by the open doorway, he stood with his helmet under one arm, wearing the sour expression he always reserved for her. “We just got back and heard the news,” he said, thumbing towards the _Tempest_ , which was docked on the far end of the outpost. “Ryder’s pretty cut up. You’d better go see her. For whatever crazy reason, you’re the only one she ever seems to open up to.”

The news. Vetra had only heard it an hour ago herself. She tucked the datapad under one arm and nodded at Liam. “Thanks. I’ll go now.”

“Sure.”

It was a relief to finally be on something approaching civil terms with Liam. They’d never be friends, would never see eye to eye on a lot of things, but they could begrudge each other a minimum of respect. Perhaps Sara had intervened. It would be just like her. Whatever the case, the way things were now was good enough for Vetra.

With a few parting instructions to her assistants, she hastened across the outpost, up into the Tempest’s hold, sparing a cursory nod to Cora and Jaal, not stopping until she was in front of Sara’s door. She knocked softly. “Sara?”

“Come in, Vetra.”

Sara was at her desk, head propped on her elbows in front of SAM’s ship node. Its sparkling light was muted, almost sombre. Vetra padded over, leaned against the desk and looked down at the Pathfinder. She hadn’t changed out of her hardsuit, hadn’t even taken the pistol off her hips. Wouldn’t let Vetra see her face.

“You heard?” said Sara, in a small voice.

“Yeah.” Kaetus, found in his quarters that morning, a shotgun in his hands and the back of his head spattered against the wall. “He was an alright guy, from what I’ve heard. It’s sad.”

Sara sank further, one arm dropping bonelessly to the desk. “Is this what my life is going to be forever, Vetra? Constantly trying to pick the lesser of two evils and ruining lives either way?”

Vetra watched her for a moment, then knelt by her chair, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “You know, I used to try to ignore all the repercussions of my choices. Wasn’t healthy. You have to...switch off a part of yourself to be able to do that. Do it enough, and you end up like Sloane. Or Tann,” she added darkly. “You’re the good kind of leader, Sara. The kind with a conscience.”

Sara finally turned her head to Vetra. The parts of her eyes that were usually white were shot through with red, like they sometimes got when she was really tired. She looked sad, defeated. “I thought I was getting better at this,” she whispered. “I should be tougher by now.”

Vetra placed a gentle hand on Sara’s knee. “Look, it’s not much, nothing like you helping me to save Sid all the time, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make these things easier for you.”

A watery smile drifted across Sara’s face. “Oh Vetra,” she sighed, “You have no idea what you already do for me.”

Flustered again, Vetra looked away, glancing around the room. How many heart to hearts had they had in here, now? Perhaps a change of space would be good for both of them.

“Hey Sara,” she said. “You ever been rock-climbing?”

 

*****

 

Sara collapsed on the ground, spread-eagled and groaning. Vetra stood over her, mandibles shivering with silent mirth. “Hey,” she said teasingly, “I brought you up here to look at the view.”

Sara managed a grin and, peering up at Vetra intently, said between breaths, “This is a pretty great view already.”

Vetra’s heart jolted, flipped, pounded against her breastbone. How did Sara _say_ such things so _easily_? She flopped down next to her and battled to control herself.

The last time she was here had been with Vela and her team. It seemed so long ago, as far as the Milky Way. To think that there had ever been a time when she’d felt she had to hide in order to keep Sara’s friendhip, to keep her...whatever this was.

Vetra looked over at her, at her chest rising and falling, at her cheeks red with exertion, her long eyelashes fluttering closed. _This is Sara,_ she reminded herself. _Sara, who’s helped you and believed in you, and risked so much for you. Whatever happens next, she’s not going to hurt you._

“Is this real?” she heard herself say.

Sara’s eyes snapped open, and her face scrunched. “I think the sky is real.”

Vetra slapped herself mentally. If she hadn’t known Sara, she’d think she was _trying_ to make this harder. How could someone so perceptive be so _dense_ when it mattered?

“I mean, the way you are with me. Like you care. More than for a friend. Like…” Her tongue grew too think in her mouth to continue, and so she grasped clumsily at Sara’s hand instead. _Please understand. I can’t say it out loud. I can’t._

To her relief, Sara gripped back, five fingers somehow interlocking comfortably with three. She heard her draw in a long, deep breath, and then suddenly Sara was rolling over, placing a gloved hand along Vetra’s jaw and guiding their lips together. She smelled of sweat and Kadaran dirt, but the press of her mouth was firm, her tongue soft, sweet and reassuring.

Sara broke away, hovering a millimetre from Vetra’s face. “Convinced yet?” she breathed.

“Might need a little more,” Vetra breathed back, lifting a hand to Sara’s neck and pulling her back down. Time passed. Minutes, perhaps several. Vetra wasn’t counting.

She barely noticed their comms buzzing to life.

_“Ryder? Ryder, come in!”_

Sara jerked her head up and picked up her comm. “Cora? What’s wrong?”

 _“The outpost’s under attack! A bunch of shuttles pulled up out of nowhere and -”_ The sound of gunfire interrupted her. _“Damn it! Ryder, they’re everywhere! All angara. At least ten with biotics.”_

They stared at each other in horror. Sara leapt to her feet, eyes wild with fear. “The colonists?”

 _“We’re trying to get everyone to shelter but -”_ More gunfire. An explosion. _“Damn it! Ryder, just get back here!”_

Vetra was still scrambling to her feet as Sara twisted on her heel and sprinted for the cliff edge. “Come on!” she yelled. Was she going to… Yup. Sara leapt out into thin air as Vetra yelped in shock, reaching the edge just in time to see Sara’s jets kick in, cushioning her landing. She hit the ground and rolled, hightailing it back to the Nomad.

“Shit,” Vetra muttered, and jumped.

 

*****

 

The Nomad boosted off the top of the final hill and slammed back down in a shower of dirt, tyres squealing. Vetra held on to the back of Sara’s seat with a death grip, heart in her mouth, stomach in knots. “Why the outpost?” she wondered aloud, “Why now?”

Eyes locked onto the prefabs peeking around the ridge ahead, Sara said between gritted teeth, “I think this’ll be a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kind of scenario, Vetra.”

As they turned the corner a sudden onslaught of bullets hit them, flaring the Nomad’s shields blue and white. Sara hauled the steering wheel to the left, cursing. “Snipers!” she hissed. The Nomad skidded in a wide arc and ground to a halt.

With rounds still peppering their shields, Sara slammed a fist against the hatch release button.She and Vetra tumbled out, huddling behind the relative safety of the Nomad’s bulk as shots continued to batter it from the other side. Vetra chanced a look around her tyre. The outpost buildings were intact, apart from where a few streams of smoke rose in ashen columns. Burning vehicles and a handful of bodies littered the ground. The noise of gunfire was immense, almost deafening. The attackers must have come from the other end of the basin, spreading out among the hills and outcrops.

Sara was fiddling with her comm. “Cora? SAM? Can anyone hear me?”

_“Ryder?”_

“Cora!” said Sara, relief flooding her face. “What’s happening?”

_“We’re holding them off for now, but there’s so many.... I’m bunkered up in the central building with Jaal.”_

“Alright. We’ll meet you there.”

The central building was close, only a short sprint away, but the stretch of turf separating them from it was cris-crossed with sweeping, blood-red lasers. The snipers, up in the hills, too far out of range for either Vetra or Sara’s guns.

“You could charge it,” Vetra suggested.

Sara stared at her in astonishment. “And leave you behind? Forget it.” She reached up into the Nomad and pulled out her rifle. “Ready?” she asked Vetra, eyes steely with determination. Vetra nodded, powering up her shields and bracing for the run.

“Okay,” said Sara, preparing to power up her barrier. “Ready...and...go!”

They burst out from behind the Nomad, heads down. One foot in front of the other, as fast as possible. That was all they needed to do. Vetra heard the pop and fizz of her shields under attack, smelled the metallic tang of vapourising slugs. Sara was beside her, arm thrown up, barrier rippling like a pond in a hailstorm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them. Tall figures, shimmering with an otherworldly purple glow, trudging slowly but steadily towards the outpost. One wound his arm back, just as Vetra’s armour began to beep in warning.

The bolt of energy slammed into her torso, annihilating her shields in a shower of sparks. Vetra staggered, managed two more steps before a slug tore into her shoulder. She grunted, careened sideways, tripped over a fallen corpse. She ploughed into the dirt, getting a mouthful of soil and ash, Sara’s voice ringing dimly in her ears. Then, for just a moment, she saw him. Indistinct through the fog of battle, beyond the shambling angara, a lone, hulking turian form.

Sara was tugging at her good arm, pulling her to her feet. Vetra pushed herself back into a run,  staggering into the shelter of the main building, letting Sara pull her up the staircase. They virtually fell through the door as it slid open, and Vetra found herself being guided to a soft chair, hands pulling at her pauldron.

Through bleary eyes, she scanned the room. Settlers were huddled all about, behind sofas or under tables.  Some were hunkered beneath the windows, rifles in hand, popping up to scatter fire at the enemy. Cora was mercifully alive, barking orders. Jaal was there too, picking off snipers, ducking when shots whizzed past. Kallo was there too, with a box of clips and incendiary ammo, handing it out to the settlers as necessary. Vetra shut her eyes and drew a harsh breath as Lexi smeared her wound with medigel.

“I’d tell you not to move this arm,” said Lexi, stoic as always, “but under the circumstances I don’t think you’d listen.”

Vetra groaned. “Caulus. He’s here. I’m gonna...I’m gonna _kill him_...”

Sara grimaced. “I saw him too.” To Vetra’s relief, she looked unhurt.

Cora hastened over, bent at the waist, blonde hair plastered to the side of her face. “They came out of nowhere. Pulled up in their shuttles and opened fire. The others are pinned down in the south building, in the labs.”

A chill gripped Vetra. _The labs._ Their scientists, their new arrivals. They would all be over there...

 **I have contacted Kadara Port, Pathfinder,** SAM piped up. **But it will be some time before help can arrive.**

Hope Reyes isn’t leaving us in the lurch, Vetra thought darkly. She sat up, reaching for her pauldron. “And the angara?”

“They should have fizzled out by this point, but,” Cora shook her head in disbelief, “They’ve got some kind of a tag-team going. They fall back when they start to tire, swap out and get juiced up all over again. Means they can’t move far from their shuttles, but even at this distance they’re wreaking havoc.” Her face screwed up in distaste. “They’re so unlike asari. No finesse. No real control. Just... _brute force._ ”

On cue, the room shuddered under a concentrated blast of biotic power. The lights blew. People screamed as sparks rained down. From the window, Jaal yelled, “The footsoldiers are advancing on South!”

 _“You guys!”_ Peebee. _“They’re getting really close. Reinforcements would be a big help!”_

Sara was on her feet, pistol unholstered. “We’re coming, Peebee.”

Another earthshaking impact, knocking Sara to the ground. More screams. Vetra’s ears were ringing.

“Wait, Ryder,” said Cora, sweating and grave. “With this much firepower, we might not make it until Reyes gets here. _If_ he gets here. We have to destroy their supply shuttle, cut off their power source. If we can get past the snipers and close enough to their rear...”

“And in the meantime the others get overrun!” said Sara, shaking her head wildly. “We have to help them! He’ll come, I know it!”

Cora was wild, desperate. “If he doesn’t, we _all_ die! This building isn’t gonna last much longer!”

Another day, another impossible choice. Sara froze, torn apart by indecision, wide eyes flitting over the petrified colonists. Vetra felt her heart rend itself to shreds. _I’ve put her in this position. This is my fault in so many ways._

Time to make good on that promise. Getting to her feet, she laid her good hand on Sara’s shoulder. “Go to them,” she said softly. “I’ll take care of the supply.”

Sara looked up at her, eyebrows knotting in consternation. “By yourself? That’s crazy, Vetra. And you’re hurt!”

“It’s not too bad,” said Vetra, stifling a wince. “I can move quickly and quietly. Gotten real good at that over the years. And _he’s_ there. I have to face him.” She looked down at Sara, into her eyes shining with worry and fear, and did her best to sound confident. “Go help the others, Sara. I’ll be fine.”

Sara’s eyes darted over Vetra’s face as she weighed her words. Then her face crumpled, and she pulled Vetra down and crushed their lips together. It was brief, punctuated by a grunt of astonishment from Cora, and then Sara was pulling away, wiping up an errant tear and fixing her face. “Cora, you and Jaal stay here and keep these people safe. I’ll head over to South. Vetra…” she bit her lip and looked up at her one last time, “Good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion!
> 
> P.S. Kadara outpost really needed some more meaningful quests. And a name, God.
> 
> And what does happen to Kaetus in-game? I don't know, I kept Sloane. Badass pirate queens are a weakness of mine.


	11. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3

Flat on her belly behind the smoking skeleton of a UTV, Vetra was having second thoughts.  _ This is suicide. How the hell am I going to do this? _ Around her, the outpost was a wreck. Crates, equipment and vehicles were strewn across the grass, hurled or scattered by the angara. A greasy column of smoke rose from where they’d downed a shuttle trying to escape. And over it all, that relentless sweep of red lasers, the thundering fury of biotic attacks. Behind her, the battered outpost buildings creaked and shook with every blow. Over by the south building, where Sara had gone, a horde of footsoldiers was closing in.

Biotically ionised air seared the back of Vetra’s throat as she scanned her route through the chaos. Her plan was to dart from cover to cover around the northern outskirts of the base, hopefully evading the sniper’s sights. But there were so  _ many _ . On cue, her wounded shoulder twinged. A couple more hits like that would be the end of her. She was going to have to be fast. And careful. She checked her equipment. Rifle, barely half a clip left. Have to be sparing with that. In a pouch at her side, a couple of the grenades she’d bought in New Tuchanka. One mostly useless right arm, her throwing one at that.  _ If I even make it there without dying... _

Forcing that chain of thought down, Vetra pulled herself up to a crouch and braced herself on the balls of her feet. The odds didn’t matter. She  _ had _ to do this. For Sara. For everyone. And Reyes was coming, right? She had to trust Sara’s judgement. Vetra tensed in readiness as her shields glimmered into life, eyes tracking the closest laser. When it moved far enough away…

A bang from behind. The beam jerked, whipped skywards and was gone.

_ “Hah! Got one!” _

Vetra froze. “Jaal?”

_ “Keep going! I’ll cover you as much as I can. Don’t let them see you. If they do, it’s over.” _

_ “We’re gonna turtle up!”  _ Cora.  _ “Counting on you here, Vetra.” _

Turtling up? Before Vetra could ask, the air around the central building began to shimmer and crackle. A moment later, a purple sheen swelled to encase the front wall.  _ Huh.  _ She’d seen some asari among the colonists.  _ Must be combining their strength. _

_ “Urgh, we can’t hold this forever, Vetra. Get going!” _

Right. She took a deep breath, counted to three, and bolted. Darting, rolling, ducking, she worked her way around the perimeter, keeping low. Ahead of her, the snipers fell one by one to Jaal’s . Finally she reached an outcrop of rocks, pressing up against them and grasping at her shoulder. It hurt like  _ hell _ ...must have reopened. Sure enough, when she pulled her hand away, her glove was smudged with dark blue blood.  _ Damn it. _

She forced her attention to the battlefield. Only a little way to go now. She was about level with the line of biotic soldiers, close enough to make out their gaunt faces. Some were holding up barriers, absorbing the settlers’ bullets. The rest were hurling shockwaves, lifting and throwing rocks, anything to bring down the outpost. They seemed half-dead, twisted, as though the drug running through their veins was all that was keeping them upright. Behind them, she could see a few small angaran personel carriers. Among them, close to the front line, was a single Initiative shuttle. As she watched, an angaran soldier, his biotic haze sputtering and fading, stumbled towards it and collapsed inside. She’d found her target.

_ “You’re beyond the reach of my bullets, Vetra. It’s up to you now.” _

Her tongue was thick and dry in her mouth. “Thanks Jaal,” she rasped. “I won’t let you guys down.”

The biotics were focused on trying to tear down the barrier, and  _ probably _ wouldn’t notice her. All she needed was to get within throwing distance of that shuttle and...she patted the pouch at her side. The grenades clicked against each other.  _ Still there. Right. Just keep your eyes fixed on those buildings, you assholes. _

Crouched low to the ground, Vetra scuttled to another rock, and another, until there was nothing between her and the nearest carrier but open, grassy turf. The angaras’ backs were to her now. Vetra stepped forward with a cautious foot, but drew back sharply as another angara turned. As her heart thudded wildly in her chest, she watched him drag himself to the shuttle, grimacing in agony. How much hatred did they have for the Initiative, that they’d torture their own bodies like this, just to destroy a single base? 

The soldier disappeared inside the shuttle, just as the previous one exited, shrouded anew in crackling purple energy. He lurched back to the others, his arm glowing, and took aim at the south building. Where Sara and Drack were, with no Cora to shield them.

_ Sara... _ Vetra sprang forward and darted across the stretch of grass, driven on by fear for the young Pathfinder. Pulse racing, she tumbled behind the carrier, and, hunched over, slowly edged her way around its length until the shuttle was in sight.

Its hatch was open. Inside it, she could just make out the huddled shape of the second angaran soldier, his arm stretched out as a human male in a filthy lab coat prepared to administer an injection. She had to move fast, before he was back on his feet. Vetra ripped her pouch open and pulled out a grenade. A solid underarm lob was all she needed. One good explosion, and she could disappear in the chaos, race back to the outpost without anyone realising she was there. There was just one problem...she swung her right shoulder experimentally. The pain was instant and overwhelming, lancing from shoulder to elbow. Vetra bit back a scream. No good. She’d have to use her left.

She shifted the grenade to her other hand, feeling its weight, testing her muscles. _All those years of learning the tricks of the trade, and I never learned to throw left-handed._ _Hell of an oversight_. She had to concentrate, still herself. Deep breath. In. Out. Okay...Vetra swung her arm, winding up, one...two…

“A few more minutes, Davred. They’ll get that barrier down. You’ll see.”

That voice! Vetra stopped mid-swing and drew back behind the carrier. She edged forward just enough to be able to see him. Caulus, walking back from the biotic line with a thickset, muscular angaran male. This must be ‘Davred’. He was looking back over his shoulder at the biotics, looking troubled. 

“And the effects on my people,” he said, “Their pain. You are sure this is temporary?”

They were walking towards the shuttle. If Vetra waited, if she timed it right…

“Of course!” Caulus was saying. “A week or so in bed and they’ll be right as rain.”

Vetra grimaced, remembering the message she’d received from Vela a week before. They’d been unable to save the captive from Elaaden. Either Caulus  was lying through his teeth, or he knew something the Initiative didn’t about treating angaran red sand addicts. Vetra didn’t much like either option. She inched forward as the two passed her hiding spot.

Caulus was still wheedling away, clapping a huge hand against Davred’s back. “Once the walls are down, they’ll crush ‘em like bugs. You’ll see. Even their Pathfinder. And then Kadara Port is yours for the taking. I’ve got enough sand in my warehouse to let you raze it to the ground if you want.”

Davred shook off Caulus’ hand. “We mean to retake it, not destroy it. But if they can truly destroy a Pathfinder…”

A cold rage was growing in Vetra’s gut. He was here to get Sara and the others killed as a  _ demonstration _ . As a  _ sales pitch _ . That was it. She stepped out from behind the carrier, eyes fixed on the open hatch of the shuttle. Caulus and Davred were just approaching it…She yanked out the pin, swung her arm back, pitched the grenade with a deep underarm swoop. It soared through the air, spinning end over end, fell…

...and bounced off the side of the shuttle, rebounded and hit the dirt.

Caulus grabbed Davred and dragged him to the groud a split second before the blinding flash. A powerful concussion tore through the air. Vetra tumbled to the ground, ears ringing.  _ Shit! Shit!  _ She looked up. Through the slowly clearing smoke, she could see the shuttle still intact. The human doctor tumbled out the other side and took off running. The angara were turning towards the shuttle. Even some of the armed footsoldiers were looking back in confusion.

Time slowed. Sound faded. Caulus emerged from beneath Davred’s limp body and staggered to his knees, stunned. He blinked stupidly, then saw Vetra. His eyes widened, and he fumbled sluggishly for the pistol at his waist.

But Vetra was already up, right hand at her own waist, drawing out her last grenade. Caulus bellowed, dragged himself upright and charged Vetra like a mindless fiend.

Vetra tore her eyes from him and pulled the pin. She wound up, shoulder screaming with the effort, and threw. The grenade sailed over Caulus’ head, twinkled in the sunlight…

The breath left Vetra’s lungs as Caulus’ bulk slammed against her, lifting her off her feet. Together they crashed into the grass, knocking the rest of the wind clean out of her. His claws were at her throat, choking her.

The air split with a terrific roar. Behind the spikes of Caulus’ crest, a giant green fireball swelled up into the sky, and shards of blackened metal and charred cardboard rained down around them.

Caulus looked back at the ruined shuttle in horror. Slowly, he turned back to Vetra, eyes stony with shock and hatred. His claws dug into her throat, drawing blood. Vetra struggled, spots forming in her vision, clawing at his hand with her good arm.

“ _ You _ …” Caulus’ voice was no longer even a growl, but something vicious, guttural, and utterly primal. With his other hand, he grabbed Vetra’s arms and pinned them above her, sending fresh waves of agony along her shoulder. She didn’t even have the breath to scream.

“ _ You _ …” Caulus repeated. But then he shook his head and...and laughed, a horrific cackle that shook his massive body. “Well played, Nyx! I didn’t see that one coming at all! Pity that in the grand scheme of things, it’ll mean nothing at all.” He looked up at the hunched and twisted angara, who were looking at the scene in stupefied consternation. “This bitch just killed your boss!” he roared at them. “She wants to destroy your chance at taking back your planet!” He removed the claw at Vetras’ throat to point at the outpost. “Are you gonna let her stop you?”

The angara looked among themselves and exchanged a few angry, hurried words. A few looked to be flagging, with only a couple freshly re-energised. Still, most looked like they had a decent bit of firepower left.

“A final assault! Nothing held back!” one cried.

“For Davred!”

They drew together, and as a single, glowing mass, they began a slow shuffle towards the outpost, the angara with barriers leading the way.

Caulus returned his attention to Vetra. “This changes nothing, Nyx. No-one’s coming for you. Your friends are all going to die, and you know what? I’m going to let you watch.” He rolled her over, and hauled her to her knees, stamping a heavy foot on her ankle. Vetra cried out with the pain, screaming louder as he wrenched her arms behind her back with one hand. With the other, he gripped her about the neck, forcing her to look back towards the outpost. The angara were advancing, attacking with renewed vigour.  _ How much power did they have left? _

“You should have done what you’re good at, and run the other way instead of trying to make a big heroic sacrifice,” Caulus rasped into her ear. “All that’s going to happen now is, I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to go sell all that sand that Dinal’s taking care of for me. Do you know how many pissed-off angara there are in this place, desperate to take back that shitpile of a port?

Vetra struggled to break free, but Caulus’ grip was like iron, and her head was swimming from lack of oxygen. Her shoulder was on fire, lighting up every time she squirmed in his grasp. Through watering eyes she watched Cora’s barrier finally flicker and fall. From the south building, something small and purple hurtled out of a window towards the angaran forces. A jolt of panic pierced Vetra’s battered chest.  _ Sara, what are you doing? You’ll get yourself killed! _

“I’m going to get rich off these thick-necked suckers,” Caulus was saying, “They say the best revenge is a life lived well, and my friend, I am going to live so  _ fucking _ well.”

A massive bolt of biotic energy, and the front wall of the central building finally crumpled inwards. Bile rose in Vetra’s throat. She was really going to watch all of them die…

Out of the blue, a squad of dark shapes howled through the sky above her, spitting fire. They were headed straight for the outpost. Ships! Hatches open, machine guns and rocket launchers ripping up the angara’s barriers. Vetra watched a dozen or more soldiers boost out of each one, firing before they’d even hit the ground.

“What the…” she heard Caulus gasp. She felt the grip around her neck and arms slacken momentarily, before a hard shove knocked her to the ground. She gasped, gripped her throbbing shoulder, and rolled over to see Caulus running for one of the carrier ships. He was going to escape again.  _ No. Not again. Never again _ . Vetra staggered upright and chased after him, limping across the grass, reaching down as she passed Davred’s body to pull the pistol from his hip.

Aiming awkwardly with her left hand, she fired. The slug caught Caulus in his leg, and he stumbled. She fired again and hit his side. Caulus fell against the carrier and fought to open the cockpit door. He looked back at her, growled, and went for his pistol. Vetra fired again, hitting his hand. He howled and dropped his gun, cradling his stricken claws.

“You bitch!” he screeched. “I’ll kill you! I’ll -”

Vetra aimed again, this time at his face. “I made you, you worm,” she gasped. “And now I’m going to end you.” She squeezed the trigger.

The windshield behind his head shattered. Her heart lurched.  _ Missed! _ But Caulus sank to the ground, his huge body folding up in a heap against the chassis of the carrier, blood pouring from a gaping eye socket.

Vetra fired again, unloading into his chest until the clip had emptied. She dropped the pistol and propped her good hand on the knee of her good leg. Her head was swimming, her neck aching from bruises and puncture wounds. Her ankle was twisted, hardly able to take any weight. But Caulus stared up at her with one blank eye and one empty one, jaw slack against his breastplate. He wouldn’t be causing any more trouble.

She turned back to the outpost. The gunfire had stopped. Between the strewn debris it was hard to see what was going on, but she could guess. Slowly, stiffly, Vetra hobbled back through the steaming, smoking piles of shredded crates and vehicles, vision blurred, body aching.

The three Outcast shuttles, engines thrumming, came to rest among the wreckage. Vetra ignored them, making for the central building. Running towards her, hopping over the twisted bodies of dead angara, was a dirt-smeared, familiar form.

“Vetra!” Sara’s hands were all over her face, eyes big with a strange mixture of worry and relief. “Look at you!”

“I’ll live,” Vetra replied, taking one of Sara’s hands in her good one. “He’s dead.”

Sara pushed up on her toes and kissed Vetra, with a mouth that tasted like ash and blood, but was wonderful all the same. “You got the supply, didn’t you?” she asked between kisses. “They were all half-gone by the time they got over here. You’re amazing.”

“Hate to break up the lovers’ reunion,” came a voice from behind Sara, “But don’t you think someone else deserves your thanks too?”

Reyes, of course, standing with his foot on a downed soldier and a rakish smile on his face.

Vetra narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe if you’d showed up when we called you.”

Reyes pouted and placed a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded. You haven’t even thought to ask me _ why _ we were late.” He gestured at one of his soldiers, who hurried over to a shuttle and threw open a door. “You see,” Reyes continued, “We were rather busy, and rather far away. But I’m sure you’ll appreciate the gift we brought back for you…”

A tall, lanky figure fell out of the shuttle, pushed by some invisible hand, and hit the dirt with an undignified grunt. Vetra’s mandibles flared in shock. “ _ Dinal? _ ”

It was him, trussed up from head to toe, a gag in his mouth. He glowered up at Vetra, his grizzled old face limp in defeat. Reyes swaggered towards his captive. “Got some lucky intel. He gave us a good fight. I’m sorry there wasn’t time to invite you along, although,” he looked around at the ruins of the outpost, “I suppose it’s for the best that I didn’t.”

“Thanks, Reyes,” said Sara, still clinging to Vetra’s hand. “I’m sure I can’t thank you enough for swooping in to save us. Things were pretty hairy until you showed up.”

Reyes chuckled. “You’re very welcome, Ryder. But there’s more.” He squatted next to Dinal, giving him a hard poke in the temple. Dinal squealed indignantly.

“We found their operation. Looks like they were just setting up, but planning to start making a lot of product soon. Things could have gone badly for us all if we hadn’t found them.”

Sara raised her eyebrows at him. “And just what are you planning to do with what you found?”

Reyes cocked an eyebrow right back. “Again, I’m hurt. I told you I don’t mess with drugs, Ryder. We destroyed it all.”

Finally. Vetra leaned against Sara, taking the weight off her bad foot. Maybe now they could lay this whole damned red sand to rest. 

Drack and Jaal appeared, picking carefully around the debris. Drack’s big head swivelled between Dinal and Vetra. “One down, huh?” His yellow eyes flickered over her injuries. “Sure hope you’re about to say, ‘you should see the other guy’.”

Vetra huffed a short, tired laugh. “What’s left of him, anyway.” She sobered. “Is everyone…”

“We’re all okay, Vetra,” said Sara, warm and soft. “I’m taking you straight to Lexi though.”

But Vetra resisted the gentle tug on her hand. “Wait.” She turned to Reyes. “One more guy. Dirty scientist clothes. Went running off when I blew up his toys. You should...you should probably go find him.”

Reyes grinned. “The hunt goes on! I’ll leave my people to help with the clean up.” Giving Dinal a final swift kick in the stomach, the Charlatan hopped aboard his shuttle, along with a few of his soldiers. A few seconds later, he was speeding off into the hills.

Vetra allowed herself to be led back to the cratered shell of the central building, allowed herself to be fussed over, first by Lexi and then by Sara. She made a little noise about wanting to help, but Sara pushed her down firmly into the same torn and dirty sofa in the central building. “Don’t move,” she said, with a last quick peck on Vetra’s lips. “Stay here and rest a bit. Pathfinder’s orders!”

Vetra wanted to protest, but a heaviness was filling her body. The heaviness reached her eyelids, which drooped, shutting no matter how she tried to keep them open. The noise and light slowly faded, and Vetra passed into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

*****

 

“Co-ow,” said Vetra, trying out the unfamiliar word. “Are you sure about this, Sid?”

They were back on the Nexus. Two weeks had passed since the attack, a week since they’d finished helping with the rebuilding efforts. Two hours since they’d docked, and less than one since an exuberant and squealing Sid had dragged Vetra out to shop for her big date. About ten minutes since Vetra had begin to feel like this was a terrible, terrible idea.

Sid flapped the vacuum-packed lump of meat under Vetra’s nose. “Of course I’m sure! Shelly from Security was telling me all about human courtship. You gotta have candles and slow music too. And flowers.”

Vetra took the steak gingerly, looking at it as though it might explode in her hands. “Does it all...symbolise something?”

Sid shrugged. “Probably hails back to their primitive past, right? Proving your value as a mate by providing fire and meat.”

“I suppose…” Vetra trailed off, squinting at the tiny instructions. What did  _ broil _ mean?

“You know how to cook that, right?” asked Sid, trying to read Vetra’s expression.

Vetra, who Drack had once briefly banned from the kitchen for setting the microwave on fire, said, “Sure. Can’t be too hard, right?” She paid for the outlandishly overpriced steak. Maybe Drack could help her out.

An hour later, the sisters wandered through the Nexus streets, arms were filled with date night paraphernalia. Vetra tried to dodge the endless stares from passersby, with no success. After the Kadara incident, she’d been labelled a hero in her own right, much to Tann’s horrified consternation. For once, she shared the sentiment. Anonymity and an ability to blend in with the crowds had been key tools in her arsenal for as long as she could remember, and her smuggling instincts flooded her with unease every time someone recognised her. Some people had even asked for  _ pictures _ . And it definitely didn’t help that news about her and Sara had spread like wildfire. No. Vetra Nyx was now firmly and irrevocably in the public eye, and not really sure how she felt about it.

“So,” said Sid, breaking into Vetra’s thoughts, “I’m thinking of taking you up on that offer to move to Kadara.”

Vetra chuckled. “Made enough enemies at Initiative HQ, huh?”

Sid scowled. “How was I supposed to know Addison was tangling with Exile mercs? I was just investigating raided ships. But yeah, every time either of them comes by Operations, they look at me like they want to grind me up into Hydroponics fertilizer. I know Sara won’t let them mess with me, but it’s..awkward, ya’know?”

“The colony’s going well,” Vetra replied. “I think you’d fit in well there. Let’s talk to Kesh about it later.”

Her omnitool beeped, showing an email from Sara. Juggling her shopping in one hand, she read it quickly. “Some of the crew are meeting up at Vortex. She’s asking us both to come.”

“You guys spend  _ weeks _ on end stuck in a tiny ship together,” said Sid, shaking her head in good-humoured disbelief. “Don’t you ever need a break from each other?” 

 

*****

 

Vetra leaned against the polished bar, music thumping in her ears. Vortex Lounge was busy, packed with new arrivals from the arks, as well as several curious angara. The asari bartender smiled at her. “You’re Vetra Nyx, right? The one who saved the Kadara colony? Drinks are on the house for you tonight.”

Vetra felt her mandibles flare in embarrassment. “You know the rest of my team was there too, right?” She jabbed a thumb towards the table where the entire crew of the  _ Tempest _ was carousing loudly. “We all played our part.”

The bartender started to mix up a drink. “All I know is what the Pathfinder said. Hero of the day.” She slid the drink over, a tall, bubbling green concoction. “Here. Dutch is calling it the Turian Smuggler.”

The other bartender, a dour bald human, threw Vetra a wink and a weak smile. She stuttered out her thanks and took the drink.  _ This is getting ridiculous. _ She worked her way through the crush of sweaty partygoers to rejoin her crew. Sid was already there, giggling with Gil about something doubtlessly nefarious. Over in the corner, deep in conversation with Cora, was a man who looked an awful lot like Sara.  _ Must be Scott. _ Vetra had yet to meet him properly. Should she go introduce herself? He and Cora looked  _ awfully _ cosy. Maybe not.

There was Sara, sitting in a booth opposite Suvi, surrounded by empty glasses. She waved lazily at Vetra, a blissful smile on her reddened face. Drunk already. Suvi was a bad, bad influence. Vetra slid in next to her, somehow managing to find room for her drink on the table as Sara wriggled under her arm and tucked herself against her side. “My girlfriend’s here!” she slurred.

Suvi stood up, and threw Vetra a wink that could only be described as  _ lascivious _ . “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, shall I? I’m due for a refill.” She vanished into the crowd.

“You’re late!” Sara whined. “What took you?” Her skin was even warmer than usual, the heat of her forehead burning Vetra’s still-tender neck. She twisted to plant a kiss on Sara’s hair.

“Sorry. Had a lot of business to attend to. Suppliers and that.” A white lie, the only type she’d ever tell Sara from now on. The supplies for the big date were squared away in her little room on the  _ Tempest _ , ready to be deployed when the time was right. She pulled Sara in closer, and finally tried her Turian Smuggler.  _ Pretty good. Fruity. _

SVetra sank back into the plush seat, sipping at her drink and lwatching the crew. Peebee was hitting on Jaal again. Poor guy. He looked totally lost. Drack was trying to teach Liam, Lexi and Kallo that bizarre krogan board game. What a strange, wonderful collection of people she’d ended up with.

“Did you get everything you needed?”

_ Speaking of strange and wonderful…  _ Vetra looked down at Sara affectionately. “I believe I did.” She let out a little sigh. “Everyone was looking at me. Treating me like some kind of celebrity. It was weird.”

Sara squeezed her knee. “You’ll get used to it. I did. Welcome to being a big hero, sweetie.”

_ Sweetie _ . She liked that. “Are you finally going to introduce me to your brother?”

Sara looked over at Scott and Cora. He was brushing her hand with a finger while she laughed at something he said. Sara’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “Ugh! Why does he always have to be so...so  _ lecherous _ ? I told him my crew was off-limits. Come on,” she said, standing with only a slight wobble, pulling Vetra up by the hand. “Let’s go drop some cold water on those two.”

Vetra let herself be led, squeezing through the tables and bodies, never letting go of Sara’s hand. A strange feeling washed over her. Was it the alcohol kicking in? Scott noticed them approaching, and drew back from Cora with a sheepish smile. Sara’s grip tightened, and she looked back at Vetra, blushing with a happy tenderness. The strange feeling swelled inside Vetra’s chest. Was it love? Happiness?

“Scott! This is Vetra!”

Sara’s face was shining with pride. Something clicked in Vetra’s heart. She finally knew the feeling for what it was. Something she’d never hoped to know again. Not just a feeling, she realised, but a certainty, that someday, sooner than she’d ever hoped, everything was going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! A big thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story. Your readership, kudos, comments and advice have meant so much. Thanks again for taking the time. You're all stars!


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